Andraste's Flame
by Magickal-Phay
Summary: Aela was called a miracle by her parents after her surprise birth. She was named a miracle after she survived the Joining while others failed. Each of the four treaty holders famed her as a miracle by saving them from demons and civil war. But can she pull off a miracle when it comes to the archdemon? A story about war, love, duty, and faith.
1. The Beginning of the End

**Based on Bioware's ****_Dragon Age: Origins_****. The characters and the original plot points belong to the original creators. My take on it strays at times and is in no way meant to infringe on any preexisting story.**

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**Chapter One: The Beginning of the End**

Numb. That is what she felt. Numb. The world didn't exist, sounds were silent, and colours were gray. The world was alive and yet nothing lived. A hole was where her heart should have been, and if the muscle beat, she would not care. The only thing she felt anything for was her war hound, who was licking his wounds next to her.

"You need to eat, child."

The gruff voice across from her stirred her emotions long enough for her to shift her weight on her sleeping mat. She stared at her bandaged feet protruding from under her tattered skirts, illuminated by the fire. She looked up at Duncan with a blank expression. She did not speak, let alone eat the food he offered her. She didn't want to move, or else she'd feel the dried blood in her hair scrub against her neck.

Duncan's kind face seemed to stare into her spirit, trying to convince her to eat the sprouts and hare he had managed to scrape up for them. She didn't want to eat. She wanted to starve and disappear. She wanted off the earth and to fade away.

"Aela, I know these are trying times, but - "

"They're dead."

Aela's own voice sounded far away. It was hoarse from a night of screaming, sore from the shrieks that ripped out of her, just as her heart was.

Duncan didn't respond.

"We left them... my mother, my father... all those people I loved..."

Duncan placed the plate down and sighed defeatedly. "A lesson we all must learn is that these things are not our faults."

Aela's eye twitched. She said nothing.

"But your parents' last wishes were to see you escape."

Aela began counting the threads fraying from her gown. Running through the night had made a mess of her clothing, and how she managed to escape with only minor scrapes was either her mother's training flourishing or sheer dumb luck. She gazed over her weapons - the Cousland sword she had taken from her parents' room and a random dagger she had trained with years ago. She never thought she would ever have to use it.

Her feet ached from running through the Coastlands' forest. Ferns, roots, fallen branches, and brambles had torn her flesh to shreds, and by the time they came to rest by the road, her feet were bloody beyond believe. The rest of the blood belonged to many men, Howe and Cousland, and a particular streak along her sleeve was from her beloved nephew, Oren. She hiccupped and twisted her arm to hide the stain.

Duncan picked up the plate and thrust it into her hands. She winced as bruises and scrapes wrenched around. "Eat. You need your strength if you have any hope of being a Grey Warden."

The girl twisted her nose as tears fell. "I don't want that life."

Duncan leaned back against a tree, sword over his lap. "And yet you were begging to join your brother in the fight against the darkspawn."

She cringed and felt her back spasm out of disgust. "I never thought... it would be like that."

"War is never something you expect. But you wielded those blades as true as you were able. Does that count for nothing?"

"Not anymore."

Duncan gave a sharp sigh at her stubborness. Aela stared at the meat on her plate, hunger keeping its distance. She wondered how the people burned in the castle, and the thought made her grimace.

"We must travel to Ostagar, and get there by the end of the week." Duncan motioned to her plate. "Your brother will be there waiting to march. If we get there on time, I promise I will give you leave to seek him, if you promise to uphold your end of your oath."

Aela blinked. Fergus. Of course! He would be there, and she would tell him, and together they could call for Howe's punishment!

"My oath?"

Duncan shifted his weight and looked into her eyes. "You will be recruited into the Grey Wardens and use your life to serve them as I do."

"Oh."

She took one bite and chewed for a time. Duncan relaxed.

"How is your fighting?" he asked after a while. Aela swallowed painfully. She did not understand at first. Duncan motioned with his hands, looking for words. "You're lengthy, quick in times when you need to be... a good asset to have on the battlefield. More defensive."

Aela nodded gently. "I'm good at hiding," she murmured. "I was always good at sneaking up on people."

Duncan gave a nod and an approving grunt.

"Locks, too," Aela continued. "And traps."

She received more nods. She ate, but did not finish. She instead placed the plate to the side and touched her hands to her hair. It was still crusted with dried blood and dirt. She pulled a lock to her eyes to see. White strands were tinged red and brown. She began to pull the slightly wavy strands apart. Duncan made it to his feet and he walked a few paces away. He sheathed his sword and fingered the ground for a moment before -

Suddenly, Aela's hand flew up and snatched a rock mid-flight before it careened into her head. She snapped her eyes to Duncan, who stared back. He smiled and bowed his head.

"Good. Let's go."

And Aela slowly crawled to her feet. The cuts and gashes and broken toes made her stumble, but Duncan caught her. He righted her and lead her forward, forcing her towards the main road. She clutched her two weapons as if they were her parents' spirits.

"Duckling, to me."

The mabari reared his massive head and jumped to his feet.

Duncan gave her a blanket to hide herself in and he wore his cloak. "Howe's men are still wandering about. Best let them think we are among the dead." He turned around and tugged the blanket from her head. He had his dagger in his hand.

When Aela was born, she was renowned for not looking like a Cousland child. Her hair was white as ash, her eyes as green as leaves and life, her skin bronze and forever sun-kissed. Eleanor and Bryce Cousland said she was their miracle child, and her beauty attracted the attention of suitors that Aela rejected countlessly.

She flinched as Duncan's blade sliced through her hair, freeing her of the locks that flowed to the backs of her knees. She didn't bother choking down her tears. She stared ahead and let them fall as Duncan cut through it until it only surrounded her face daintily. He buried it under a tree and pulled the blanket over her head again, squeezing her shoulders. He tumbed away her tears and wiped them over her face to moisten it. He rubbed more filth on it and she gagged internally with every swipe.

"Hopefully no one will recognize you, now."

They made it to a small inn and trading post off the North Road once they had broken free of the Coastlands Forest. Duncan ushered her inside and checked her cloak again. He looked weary as he waited for the innkeeper to enter. Aela only hoped Duckling would behave himself.

"Sorry, we're closed!" a shrill voice exclaimed. A plump and otherwise miserable looking woman stomped into view and looked over Duncan and Aela with beady eyes.

"We are simply looking for clothing and food," Duncan replied. His voice was suddenly hoarse. "My daughter and I are trying to get to Redcliffe."

"Pah!" the woman replied. "Do you think that will open me shop?" The woman leaned against the counter and she sneered. "I have orders from Arl Rendon Howe to not let any visitors in."

"I can pay generously," Duncan assured. "For a change of clothes for my daughter. They are far too cold for the journey south."

The woman looked Aela up and down. She cocked her head to the side. "Generously, eh? You look like peddlers to me."

Duncan coughed. "Please, she is worth more than I own."

The woman sighed angrily. She rolled her eyes and gave up.

"Off with the blanket, then, girl. Let's see if you're worth the time."

Aela faltered. "I am cold," she lied.

"Do you want clothes, or not?"

Duncan gave her a look that made her slowly open her blanket. She kept her head down, and the blanket draped over her head to cover her hair. The woman scoffed.

"Did you pull that thing off a dying pig?" that woman cackled. "Looks like that gown was once pretty. Silk, lace, imported. Now it's covered in shit and other things I don't want in me shop."

Aela's gown was indeed beautiful at one point. It was cinched in the middle, a beautiful lavender hue with golden embroidery and beading. Now, it was tattered and miscoloured.

"Tailored, too." The woman leaned forward. "Take that blanket from your head, girl. Let me see your face."

Aela froze before she let the blanket fall. The woman's mean face melted into horror.

"By the Maker," she uttered. Aela grimaced. "You're a mess. Alright, lemme see what I have. And I expect payment from your father."

She stormed off, muttering. Duncan looked over at her. "I thought she would recognize me," Aela whispered.

"Not everyone in the world has seen you, it seems. Not in the state you're in now."

Soon, Aela was dressed in old leather armour that was a little too big. Her gown lie crumpled in the corner of the room she was ushered into and she stared at herself in the mirror. She looked away immediately and pulled on her new boots. She clasped her dagger around her side and tore the laces from her gown. She tied them around the handle of her sword and slung it across her back. The innkeeper was busy counting out her sovereigns when Aela left. The innkeeper was talking to another customer.

"Highever had a nasty fire in the middle of the night," the man said. The innkeeper sighed.

"Hard to believe all the Couslands perished," the man continued. The innkeeper grunted in agreement.

"Pity. I rather liked them."

Aela walked out without another word and met Duncan outside. She took the first step onto the main road, and towards her new life, the beginning of the end.

* * *

_Aela stared at the mannequin holding her armour, her body vibrating with tension. She rested a hand on it and pulled the chainmail over her head. Her white hair was braided behind her head, brushed the top of her back. Her facial tattoos stood out against her freshly cleaned skin, which glistened under the oil that was used in her blessing._

_She pulled on her drake scale shirt and buckled it. It was perfectly fitted, like a second skin, and the boots made from the drake hide made her move as if they didn't exist. She pulled on her gloves over calloused and scarred hands and rolled her shoulders back._

_"You're sure that archdemon is going to be making an appearance tonight?" Zevran asked. Aela turned and sheathed her two daggers in her boots. Her green eyes met his amber gaze as she straightened her posture._

_"I'm sure of it," she replied simply. For the first time since she had met him, fear flashed before his eyes. He gave a nod and excused her. She fastened a bushel of arrows to her back and slung her bow over her torso._

_Finally, on her bedside table, a rose rested peacefully upon the oak. She slowly went to it and picked it up between her fingers softly. She stared at it, counting the petals._

_"He's waiting for us out there," Alistair murmured behind her. "He knows we're running out there."_

_"He should be scared," Aela replied. She let the rose rest to her side as she looked at him. He looked tired. He didn't sleep well, either. He refused to fall asleep last night, lest the night terrors rip him apart. "For tonight, he dies."_

_Alistair cracked a half-smile and crossed the room. He stopped an arms length from her. Aela looked up at him. He rested a hand on her cheek. His smile faltered. "You're shaking."_

_Aela nodded hysterically and she grabbed onto Alistair, cramming her face into his dragon bone breastplate painfully, wishing she could break through it and feel the warmth beneath. Alistair embraced her feverishly, rocking the pair of them back and forth. He pulled back and rested his forehead on hers. He grabbed the rose from her fingers and brought it to his lips. He turned Aela around and ran it through her braid._

_"Are you ready for this?" Alistair asked._

_"Are you?" she retorted._

_"Is anyone?" he chuckled._

_Aela turned around again and grabbed his face. She looked into his eyes deeply. "We need to be. So let's be."_

_"That's my girl."_

_Alistair leaned forward and kissed her. She clung to him and melded with him, having a single moment of calm before the hell that was waiting outside for them. She tasted him and tried to knit her soul with his. He pulled away to kiss her eyes, her mouth again, and a scar the ran over her cheek. They held each other for a moment before someone ran in._

_"The archdemon has shown himself!" Riordan exclaimed. Aela and Alistair looked at each other. "He's at the head of the horde."_

_"On our way," Aela responded in her leading voice. "Please alert my party. I want each of us out there tonight. And Duckling." Riordan nodded and left. Aela clutched onto Alistairs hand and made him look at her._

_"I have something for you to protect you," she said quickly. She ran to the other side of her bed and hauled a shield into view. Alistair stared at it for a moment._

_"I-Is that - "_

_Aela handed it to him. He stared at the silver griffon clawing at nothing on it._

_"I know you have Maric's shield, but I thought that we'd bring Duncan with us instead. I just... I don't use shields."_

_Alistair looked up and his face sobered. He pulled Maric's shield from his back and replaced it with Duncan's._

_Alistair held Aela one more time._

_"I'm going all the way there with you," he declared. "Riordan can take the kill, but you and I are staying with each other. We're waking up tomorrow."_

_Aela nodded. "Together."_

_"Like the land and the sky."_

_Alistair pulled back and smiled. Aela returned the smile, suddenly supercharged. "Let's get an archdemon head to match our dragon clothing, shall we?"_

**To be continued...**


	2. Promises

_A very sincere thank you to my first story follower, Yuki-Sama12. It means a lot. :)_

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**Chapter Two: Promises**

Alistair watched the angry mage stomp away and let out a breath of relief. He hated being a messenger owl for other people, but to mages? He winced and ran his hand over the back of his neck. He turned to walk from the platform to see if Duncan had returned from Highever.

A girl was behind him, looking uncomfortably lost. She walked up the ramp to the higher level of the Ostagar architecture, getting shoved aside by the mage. He noticed her and took a moment to stare. He liked to do so; he had been cooped up in the Chantry for far too long to appreciate the beauty of women.

She was a different kind of beautiful. Her hair was as white and light as clouds and it curled around her face daintily. Her copper skin made her green eyes pop. She had a cute overbite rimmed with a pair of pink lips. Her armour looked too big for her, but the leather skirt still betrayed her thighs. Alistair felt a blush emerging, so he averted his gaze out of politeness. He looked up again to see her staring at him. She approached him. Up close, her eyes had flecks of ocean blue, and her cheeks were rosy with excitement.

"You must be Alistair," she said in a surprisingly aristocratic voice. Alistair blinked.

"Must I be?" he asked jokingly. The girl's face faltered.

"I'm sorry, I'm trying to find a man named Alistair."

Alistair opened his arms. "Look no further! Here I am." The girl relaxed. She smiled. "But who's asking, if I may know."

The girl nodded and did a small curtsy. It was very strange to see a soldier do something so dainty. He wanted to laugh.

"Duncan sent me."

Alistair's smile went serious. He raised his eyebrows. "Oh. Has he returned?"

"Aye, he's with the king."

Excitement arose in Alistair's chest. "So that must mean he's returned with a new recruit!"

He rubbed his hands together and looked around as if Duncan was close by. He looked at the girl, who looked back at him with an awkward sort of anticipation.

"Tell me, does this one have a funny nose like Ser Jory? Or is this one shady like Daveth?"

The girl's eyebrow's furrowed. "I'm sorry?"

Alistair thought for a moment. "I certainly hope this one bathes. If I have to sleep with two people that smell like goats, I'll just hand myself to the darkspawn and save them the trouble." Alistair jumped and touched a finger to his nose in thought. "Maybe this one is a noble man who has never held a sword, but has impressed Duncan with his exceptional skill at tossing biscuits into a lake."

The girl simply stared at him, dumbfounded. Alistair dropped all humour and raised his hands. "Okay, no more jokes. I'm simply excited to meet him."

The girl grunted and placed her hands on her hips. "The king is waiting for you."

"Righto!"

The girl turned and began walking. Alistair jogged to keep up. He clasped a hand on her back.

"I didn't catch your name!" he said.

The girl shrugged away. "I didn't give it."

Alistair frowned. "I'm sorry about joking with you."

"Oh, no, no!" the girl replied, overly enthusiastic. Alistair felt a tug at his gut; something wasn't right.

Duncan was waiting for them as he talked to King Cailan. Alistair didn't like to be close to King Cailan; it felt too awkward, too fake. Did Cailan know the blood they shared? Would he care?

And there was Loghain. Loghain paid Alistair no attention save for a twitch of annoyance at the interruption. The girl stepped aside as Duncan reached to Alistair. They grabbed wrists and smiled at each other.

"Alistair."

"Duncan," Alistair replied with a grin. "Glad to see you made it here in one piece." Duncan snuck a wink at him. Duncan looked past him and motioned outwards.

"I see you've met the new recruit."

Alistair turned and saw no one but the girl, who looked at Alistair with an incredulous look.

"Only partially," the girl said. "She reached out a hand with soldier formality. Alistair bit the inside of his cheek. "I'm Aela."

Alistair grabbed her wrist and played along, kicking himself and choking down curse words. "Alistair."

He felt a wave of cold embarrassment wash down his back. He tried to release the grip, but Aela squeezed his wrist for a few extra - and tortuous - seconds.

"Pleasure," she purred. "Now, on with the plans."

"Right," King Cailan said.

The plans were mapped out, and the entire time, Alistair tried his hardest to not notice Aela's grin. She didn't even glance at him with those amazingly emerald eyes of hers, but he knew lips lips were smirking at him. Alistair grumbled.

"We should march out tonight," Loghain declared. "We have enough forces here as it is."

"No," the king responded. "We must wait for more of Duncan's comrades to arrive from Orlais."

Loghain clearly hated the notion and voiced his opinion, but the king merely shut him down and gave his final royal word.

"Your Majesty," Duncan interjected. "I recommend we march tomorrow as planned. I have three recruits that need to go through the Joining. Five Grey Wardens would prove more valuable than two."

"Of course," Cailan agreed. "So then it's settled. Go then, go prepare for this 'Joining' and report back to me when it's done."

Duncan bowed and motioned for Aela and Alistair to follow him. The last they heard from the king was a terse word or two towards Loghain, who said nothing.

"Aela, you and two other recruits are to go with Alistair into the Korcari Wilds. Go find them by the war hound kennels. I must speak with Alistair alone."

Aela nodded and walked briskly down the ramp. Alistair leaned over.

"Why?" he asked. Duncan sighed.

"What's wrong with this one?"

"Does she even know how to use that sword? And that dagger looks ancient."

Duncan grunted and shook his head. "There was a time when you didn't know what a sword was, Alistair."

"That was before the threat of a Blight."

"She has skills," Duncan interrupted. "She will be of great value to the Grey Wardens."

"She articulates too much," Alistair complained. "She talks like Anora and stands like Isolde. Which family did you take her from?"

Duncan halted and looked at Alistair in a way that made him feel small. "If Aela wishes to say, then she will. I haven't told her about you, or your bloodline, so I respect her in the same way."

Alistair frowned at the words 'bloodline' and 'respect'. "I want to know who I am fighting beside."

"Then find out," Duncan said simply. "Not knowing won't make her any less of a soldier."

Alistair felt like he'd been told his pants were missing. "All I am saying is that I don't know if she is even that! Gentle words and timidness won't win a war."

"No, skill and teamwork will. Get used to her. You said you wanted someone pretty in the party and since you weren't happy with Daveth, I'd say try to cooperate with Aela."

Alistair stalked onwards, muttering obscenities about the Maker and Duncan and intelligence of the same degree as a muffin.

In the Wilds, however, his annoyance had turned into fear. Ser Jory kept bumbling on about how he wished he could go back home to Redcliffe, a sore spot to Alistair's personal opinion, and Daveth kept drooling over the wenches he'd earn after slaying the archdemon. Alistair wanted to kick them into the swamp to shut them up, both for personal and safety reasons.

Aela, however, remained completely quiet. She did not make any comments or gestures, she remained freakishly manic as she scouted the barren hills for signs of darkspawn.

"Let me tell you," Daveth blurted as he swung his sword about out of boredom, "it is so nice to have a lady Grey Warden with us, eh?"

He wrapped his arm around her waist and tugged her against him. She gave a little squeak and suddenly looked very upset as Daveth laughed. Ser Jory scoffed in anger and Alistair glared.

"And I thought I'd never see a lady again! Those nice legs, them soft bubbies that bounce when you -"

"Daveth, that is hardly appropriate," Ser Jory piped up. Aela tried to wriggle away. Alistair could see Daveth's grip tighten in a manner that was less than jovial.

"The only thing right in that statement is the 'hard' part," Daveth snickered. Alistair rested his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Aela, however, delivered an elbow to his cod piece. Daveth cried out in a huff of breath as he doubled over. Aela, now free from his slimy grip, sauntered away. She was furious, and yet totally silent. Alistair, however, couldn't help but give her a small smile. The group had no choice but to follow her up a hill, where she halted.

"Oi, that wasn't very nice," Daveth whined. He stepped in front of Aela, who fumed. "I was only joking around."

Aela tried to look past him, but Daveth blocked her view. He sneered and dropped his voice menacingly.

"Don't I get a little apology?" he asked angrily. Ser Jory and Alistair looked at each other. Daveth grabbed Aela's chin and wrenched her head up.

"Daveth!" Alistair growled.

"I think this one's broken," he said. "I don't think this one has a tongue. Come on, say something, or do you save your mouth for other things?"

She didn't say anything. She drew her dagger from her side and thrust it forward.

"Maker's breath!" Alistair cried, thinking she had stabbed Daveth in the belly. But behind him, a gargling howl pierced the air. Daveth jumped to the side, releasing Aela, who had buried her blade into a Gemlock's eye. She twisted it and the beast went limp. She kicked it off her blade and turned to Daveth.

"Next time," she hissed, "I'm going to let it get you. So shut your bloody mouth and keep your filthy hands off me."

Daveth managed a tiny nod before Aela wiped her black blade on a nearby Elfroot. She pulled a flask from her pack and filled it with its blood. She kept moving, leaving Daveth with a very furious Alistair and Ser Jory. Aela turned around one more time, dagger pointed at them. "And that goes for you two, as well. I don't want either of you touching me, ever."

Ser Jory nodded and Alistair grunted in agreement. Once she was moving again, Ser Jory leaned over.

"Did you even see that thing behind him?"

Alistair shook his head. "No. No one else did."

Ser Jory blew out a breath and shoved past Daveth, who was busy limping away, muttering angrily. "Stupid bitch, should'a known, can't believe..."

Alistair took the back of the pack, glancing over his shoulder at the Genlock corpse that still twitched in the chilled air. A shiver swam down his spine.

He looked back towards his small party. He lingered on Aela... her white hair was dirty and tousled, her skin bruised and scraped and otherwise imperfect. Her eyes scouted ahead, seeing things no one else could. What sort of life did she lead before? How did she end up here? How could that tiny body of hers survive the Joining?

He really had no clue, but had no choice but to follow her deeper into the Wilds.

* * *

_"He's there," Alistair growled. He kicked his horse to go faster, Denerim miles away and under siege by the impending doom that was the fifth Blight. Bann Teagan and Arl Eamon rode just behind him, barking at the generals. Aela felt it, the looming presence, the hatred and death seeping into her skin and mingling with the Taint within her._

_The archdemon had set his forces on Denerim, not Redcliffe, they had learned. And Aela, flanked by Alistair and Riordan, pushed her stallion to the very edge of his breaking point. The rest of her companions were behind her. Wynne kept a constant flow of regeneration among the horses so they would not tire while Zevran and Leliana acted as second sets of eyes to Aela, pointing out faults in the road and shortcuts. Sten rode onward next to Oghren, who was surprisingly sober and quiet, while the Qunari growled at his horse to press on. Duckling bounded next to them in the trees._

_Morrigan, however, was gone._

_Aela pushed the thought out of her head as they reached the top of the hill that marked the final stretch to Denerim's gates. Once they had topped it, the party pulled their horses to a stop. Aela's spirit sank into her boots as she stared over Denerim's outer fields and farms. They were crawling with filth, with the plague, with the beings that hungered for life and blood upon their swords and tongues._

_And from the sky, there was no sign of the archdemon. Aela and Alistair looked at each other and knew if he was not yet showing, then he was close to emerging._

_Eamon dismounted his horse and ran to a sign post on the side of the road. Aela followed suit to protect him as he ran his fingers down the post, muttering. Suddenly, a smile broke over his face as he turned and took deliberate and calculated steps into the trees. The rest of the party followed cautiously._

_He paused at just over twenty paces and bent to his knees. He, with Aela's help, felt around for what Aela had no idea of. When the feeling of metal hit her fingertips under the moss, her eyes widened. She peeled the moss back to reveal a door handle._

_"Redcliffe wasn't the only place to think of a secret passage," Eamon grumbled. He heaved the door up. Under were a set of old, withered stairs that descended into darkness. Wynne and Zevran entered first, Wynne using her staff to create light, and Zevran's daggers at the ready. Everyone followed until the ground had swallowed them all._

_As they ran through the underground, Zevran ran next to Aela while Alistair ran ahead. Aela leaned closer to her fellow roguish fighter._

_"I need a promise," Aela breathed._

_"Anything," was the reply._

_"At the Landsmeet, Alistair was chosen as rightful heir to the throne."_

_"Aye, it is true." Zevran's flirtish grin faltered._

_"I need you to swear to me that if plans do not work, or if the fight turns, you will make sure he makes it out of this alive."_

_Zevran slowed his pace and stared at her. "My Warden, do you have doubts for this plan of yours?"_

_Aela placed a hand on Zevran's shoulder. "Plans don't always work. You of all people should know that. It is, afterall, how you and I met."_

_The look of understanding Aela was hoping for flashed over his face._

_"Do you swear to me to listen to my orders no matter how insane?"_

_Zevran smiled. "Insane is how I prefer my women," he purred. "So be it, I will try."_

_Aela returned the smile and trudged on, the sounds of the fall of Denerim echoing over her head._


	3. Bloodlines

_Thank you to KerryResidentofEarth for following me, no creep intended._

* * *

**Chapter 3: Bloodlines**

Aela placed the last vial of darkspawn blood into her side-satchel and stumbled away from the corpse. Her breaths escaped in pants and her shoulder screamed in pain. She sheathed the Cousland sword, which she named Biter in honour of Oren, and staggered away from the scattered bodies of the darkspawn.

Daveth and Ser Jory rambled on about how this quest was absolutely ridiculous. Daveth spat out a tooth and Ser Jory cracked his knee back into place. Aela, meanwhile, ignored her shoulder and pulled the map from her belt. They needed the treaties before they could go back, and with her arm hurting as much as it did, she wanted to waste nomore time. That, and the idea of staying in the Korcari Wilds with Daveth laying about made Aela's mouth taste bitter.

Alistair jogged up to the party with a grin on his face. Aela tried not to notice his charming demeanor, even giving the circumstances. "That was fun!" he said. The tone he used suggested it was not actually fun, but Aela gave him credit for trying.

She began to move onwards and the men had no choice but to follow. She had a constant hand on Biter, waiting for another chortle, another shriek, that would make her pull the sword free. Truth be told, she hated having to constantly be ready. The week before, she was practicing how to rest her hand upon another in a courtly dance, and now she had it rested on the pommel of a weapon she believed she would never have to use. Doing so made it feel like death was singing from the Veil, waiting for her to slip and fall.

When she was at home in Highever, Bryce and Fergus insisted on teaching Aela how to fight while Eleanor tried to convince them that it was a peaceful time in Ferelden. It came down to scattered and uncommitted sword lessons alongside hunting trips balanced with courting suitors and learning how to pronounce her vowels correctly. The world was a funny place, Aela decided.

"The ruins should be over this hill," Alistair said from the back of the pack. They climbed it quietly, but quickly.

"So, tell me," Alistair said casually as they ascended. Aela didn't hear him approach and instinctively flinched at his voice. "Does 'Aela' come with a last name?"

Aela felt anger and grief bubble in her heart. She shot a look at Alistair. "Of course it does."

Alistair stared back. "May I have the honour of knowing it?"

She laughed darkly and lightly. "You will find no honour in knowing it."

"I'll be the judge of that."

Aela turned to him. "Maybe you've noticed that you have also kept that part of yourself a secret."

She saw Alistair's face drop and he looked away. She hadn't seen him genuinely upset, and she could tell that she hit a nerve. Good.

"Fair enough," he muttered. "I thought it would be good to know..."

Aela relaxed slightly. "Look, I have my reasons. So do you, I assume?"

He nodded gently as they walked. And as fast as it had disappeared, that lopsided grin of his broke over his face. "I'll find out eventually, though."

"Sure."

They made it to the top of the hill and looked over the ruins. Ser Jory and Daveth looked over them too. Aela heard an intake of breath as if it came from the valley, and she had the horrifying feeling that she was being watched.

"Finally!" Daveth sighed. "The first sign of our return trip!"

"What I wouldn't give for a hot bath and some stew," Ser Jory moaned.

Aela raised her hand to quiet them. Daveth scoffed. "Look, lady, I'd like a chance to express some relief at some point today."

She sneered. "Shut it!" she hissed. "I'm trying to listen."

"Then listen to this!" Daveth slurred. "I'm sick and tired following you around when this is my quest, too! When do I get to tell you to shut up? Hmm?"

Aela frantically waved her hand at him, hushing him. "Please, Daveth, be quiet before - "

Her breath exploded from her body, her sore shoulder snapping forward. She lost her footing and tumbled down the edge of the hill. Her head cracked against a rock as she rolled down the treacherous slope, and her vision blackened. When she came to a stop at the bottom of the hill, she was too delirious to realize they were being ambushed. Her shoulder throbbed and something scraped the bones within. So, she had been shot, she managed to deduce.

She tried to crawl to her hands and knees before strong and blackened fingers gripped her hair. Her attacker wrenched her head up and placed something cold against her throat. She threw her hands up sloppily and managed to push the blade away from her throat just enough. The Hurlock behind her laughed and slowly pushed against her hands, bringing the knife closer and closer to her flesh. She grunted and tried to push back, but he pulled back on her hair and made her spine squeal in protest.

Then he released her. She fell against the ground and caught her breath. Another set of hands were on her, lifting her.

"No, no, no," Alistair breathed. He turned Aela's weak body over. When she saw his face, the relief that washed over him was outstanding. Aela didn't understand at first until she felt Alistair pressing his fingers to her neck. "Thank the Maker..."

The world was spinning when Alistair pulled Biter from its sheathe. He put it into Aela's hands and gave her a shake.

"Back to me, Aela!" he barked. Aela's head still spun about, but when Alistair gripped the bolt from the back of her shoulder and wrenched it out, the pain forced her back. "Back to me!"

Aela swatted him away, blood running down her arm. She lifted her sword and began to fight next to Alistair, who hovered as she was only able to use one arm, and it wasn't her main hand. To be honest, she knew she was next to useless, but she managed to cut some darkspawn while Alistair delivered the final blow.

The fight was in their favour until Aela saw a darkspawn Gemlock unlike the others. He wielded a staff and shook it about with fury. It started to glow. Aela had only seen a few mages, all at Ostagar, and while she felt this was similar, the magic around him was black as night.

A green ball of sludge flew for Alistair, who was overpowering most of the force. Aela did not know what force possessed her when she ran towards him. She smashed into Alistair. The the tackle was great enough to snap her collar as she careened into his heavier armour. At the same time, the ball of filth smashed into her back. She fell onto Alistair.

Aela's face rested on Alistair's armour as she felt the searing pain dribble down her back. She bit her lip and groaned. Varying levels of pain stabbed through her. She tried to get up to face the thing that hurt her, but when she tried, her legs went numb. She cursed to herself.

Alistair sat up, angry at first, then alarmed.

"Aela, what in the name of Andraste have you done?!"

When Alistair moved, it shot knives of pain into her entire body. She shuddered as more of the goop seeped into her skin. She turned her head to find the darkspawn when something shrieked.

Aela and Alistair jumped at the sound, and both cried out when a huge spider, larger than a horse, skittered towards them. Alistair scrambled to his feet with an arm around Aela and the other holding his sword. Daveth and Jory both yelled out as they saw the giant creature racing towards them.

But it avoided them altogether. In fact, it leapt over them. Alistair ducked at the spider landed on the Gemlock. The Gemlock screamed as the spider sank its jaws into his throat. It teared it out and spun around to face the four very nervous and very startled soldiers.

In a puff of violet smoke, the spider disappeared and a woman emerged, frowning. Aela's legs were growing weaker as Alistair tensed beside her. He raised his sword.

"Shapeshifter," he growled. The woman raised her hands and scoffed.

"Ah, I see you are adept at pointing out the obvious." She dropped her hands and laughed sarcastically. "Well done."

The woman looked slightly older than Aela, and her robes looked entirely outlandish. Her shirt draped over her breasts and her leather trousers were covered in various straps and pockets. Poking out from various places were blue feathers and white bone. Yellow eyes pierced through her black hair.

"Stay back," Alistair threatened.

She pointed at Aela, who sagged in Alistair's arm. "'Twould be foolish, as I am offering you help and your friend there is worse for wear."

"I'm fine," Aela retorted.

"You're a liar," the woman countered. "You legs are numb and your skin is falling off."

Aela glared as Alistair looked at her with concern. Ser Jory's sword was at the ready while Daveth was looking for a reason to not strike out.

"This thing's a witch!" he cried. "She'll turn us into other little creatures like herself and hunt us for sport!"

"Oh please," the woman snorted. "I'm hardly hungry at this hour."

Aela grunted in pain and Alistair was having trouble keeping her upright. "Jory, check the ruins with Daveth."

They did not need a second asking, but they did not take their eyes off the witch until they were well out of the way of her possible wrath.

"They won't find the treaties there," the witch said once they were out of earshot. "They've been gone from that chest for quite some time."

Aela frowned. "We are not leaving without them."

"I believe you. So let us have a little introduction before I tell you where they are."

Alistair grumbled and shook his head. "Mind games. I hate magic."

The witch peered over him and looked back at Aela. Aela rolled her eyes and sighed. If this witch truly wanted to help her, she wasn't in the right place to refuse. Her arms were growing heavy and her heart smashed into her skull with every beat.

"Aela," she said simply.

"Morrigan," was the reply. She cocked her head to the side. "Such pretty hair," she remarked. "I like the colourlessness of it."

"I didn't take you for the sort to appreciate looks," Alistair muttered.

Morrigan raised an eyebrow. "'Tis not looks I am interested in, much to your good fortune. Otherwise, I'd offend you."

Alistair grumbled under his breath. Morrigan's cat-like eyes looked Aela up and down. Aela looked back, biting back tears.

"Come, then, Aela," Morrigan sighed. "Let us find those treaties of yours."

Morrigan led the foray deeper into the Wilds. She knew the forest, that much was evident. The way she sauntered through the trees and the muck made her a certain type of graceful Aela had not seen before. She seemed to float forward while Daveth, Jory, and Alistair stumbled about like they were walking on butter. Aela's uninjured arm was draped over Alistair's broad shoulder, her brow covered in sweat and her vision dancing in and out of darkness. Alistair panted under the extra weight.

"Duncan is going to be furious if we don't return tonight," he complained. "And we're not entirely in one piece."

Aela could not manage to speak. She trembled as the poison drained her of feeling. But she could hear the guilt in his voice, and she almost felt bad for protecting him. They emerged from the trees and saw a house.

It was rickety and otherwise unattractive, but the chimney bellowed smoke and the smell of food wafted around them. In front of the house, an old woman stood, arms crossed, eyes squinted.

"I would have liked warning before you brought guests," the woman said to Morrigan.

"'Tis not my fault their possessions were not where they were supposed to be," she replied. "I bring you Grey Wardens looking for paper or something of the sort."

Morrigan's mother snorted and stared at the party. "A strange bunch. The three bumbling fools, I understand, but you, girl - " the woman looked at Aela, " - I am surprised."

"I was telling her how much I liked her hair," Morrigan said. "Isn't it pretty?"

The woman glared at Aela, then peered over at Morrigan. There was a silent exchange before the woman waved her hand about. It glowed for one moment before Aela felt her skin tingle. She grimaced as her flesh rebuilt and her bones snapped back into place. She slowly felt healed, and she took a bewildered step from Alistair. She turned to the woman and bowed her head.

"Thank you."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "Manners in the Wilds. Take a lesson, Morrigan."

Morrigan rolled her eyes.

"So, if the treaties are what you want, so be it."

She pulled them from her ratty waist cincher and thrust them into Jory's hands. He shrank back and gave a small yelp. The woman laughed at him and coughed. Alistair looked confused.

"Wait, that's it?" he asked. "No lightning bolts, no human stews?"

The woman looked over him. "Is that what you'd like?"

"No, no," he replied quickly. "Just checking."

The woman returned her gaze on Aela, who shifted nervously. The woman smiled. "Oh, girl, the stories you will tell," she murmured. Aela looked up from her boots. "I can see how you've suffered. Yes, I can see it and feel it coursing about you. What a jump, from your old life to this one... Aela."

Aela huffed. "And who may you be?"

The woman shrugged. "I am known by many names. But Flemeth is what people tend to call me these days."

That caused the other men to tense like vices. Before they could speak their minds, Flemeth looked to Morrigan. "Lead them back to Ostagar," she said tersely. "Farewell, Aela. I expect we may see each other again in the future."

"I certainly hope not," Alistair sniggered.

Flemeth glared at Alistair. "Be careful, boy," she hissed. "You may actually desire my company."

"I doubt that."

What a bizarre turn of events, Aela reflected. Back in Ostagar, she and the other recruits ate by a hot fire and thought quietly amongst themselves before Duncan approached with Alistair. Aela's heart skipped a beat when Duncan said, "It is time for the Joining."

They said no words as they stood and followed Duncan to a quiet area in the camp, away from the gathering war parties, set to leave within hours. With every step she took, she felt her heart increase in speed. She tried to catch her breath and could not understand why she was so nervous.

The ritual started when they stopped walking. Duncan had the three vials of darkspawn blood, poured them into a silver chalice, and faced them, face dark.

"The Joining has begun, and there is no turning back," he said. "This change will be hard for your bodies, and it will take insurmountable strength to survive."

"'Insurmountable'?" Ser Jory repeated, frightful. "What exactly are we doing?"

Duncan gave Daveth the chalice. Daveth shrugged and brought it to his lips. At first he almost vomited the blood straight back into the cup, but she struggled down one mouthful. Duncan retrieved the chalice as Daveth looked unchanged.

"Huh... well that wasn't -"

Suddenly, his back arched and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. Aela skittered back as he stumbled and choked. He clawed at his throat and blood spewed from his mouth like a fountain. He fell face first in a pool of his own blood and twitched.

Duncan turned to Ser Jory. "It is your turn."

Ser Jory stepped back. "No way," he said. "I have a wife, a child on the way. I'm not doing this!"

"There is no turning back," Duncan repeated. Ser Jory drew his sword. Duncan handed the chalice to Alistair and drew his own sword. Aela stepped back until her back hit Alistair's chest. He grabbed her arm and hung his head next to her ear.

"Don't run," he whispered. "Don't watch."

But before she closed her eyes, Duncan buried his sword into Ser Jory's belly and heaved it up, killing him messily and painfully. Aela wanted to scream, but was too horrified to make a sound. Duncan looked at Aela while Alistair handed her the chalice. Aela tried to give it back.

"No," she stammered. Alistair forced the cup into her hands and wrapped his own around hers. She looked wildly into Alistair's eyes as tears rushed forward. Maker, the terror she felt was enormous.

"Just look at me," Alistair said. "One big gulp and that's it."

Aela tried to look at the chalice.

"No," Alistair said harshly. "Look at me."

Alistair pushed the goblet to her lips. She felt the cold blood touch her mouth and she instantly gagged. Alistair did not let her pull away and soon, the blood filled her mouth. She squeezed her eyes shut and tasted rotting meat and ash flow into her body. She swallowed and Alistair released her hands. The chalice clattered to the ground as she felt her body convulse and twist around. Her eyes rolled back and she felt herself fall into the stone ground.

The darkness came alive with the sounds of screams, the feeling of marching boots, and the body of a terrifying creature unfurling its wings and roaring at the sky. A dragon, Aela realized. It looked at her and seemed to squint in her direction. It leapt off the structure it stood on and flew for her, shrieking. Aela threw her arms up, trying shield herself from the archdemon.

She immediately entered the Fade and stood in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing.

She didn't make it, she realized, and she fell to her knees, numb once more.

A figure emerged from the nothingness. It was a woman with brown hair and blue eyes, and gentle lips that smiled gracefully at her.

"I'm dead," Aela breathed. The woman nodded.

"The Taint usually kills," she said. Her voice echoed off invisible walls, and was layered by many other sounds. "Especially when there is a Blight near; the Taint is nearly impossible to face."

"I expected my family to be here," Aela whispered.

The woman knelt next to her. "They are here, Aela. They are always going to be here. But you are not."

She kissed Aela's cheek and stepped back into nothingness.

At first, nothing happened. Suddenly, the nothingness shattered and Aela fell through darkness with a small scream at her lips. She fell towards the ground, whipping about in the air like a ragdoll until she hit the ground.

When she opened her eyes, she felt the cold stone ground beneath a bloody cheek. She tried to move.

"Duncan!" a voice called out frantically. "She's coming back!"

Alistair was next to her as she forced herself into a very weakened crawl. Her whole body shook and she leaned over to empty her stomach next to her hands, blood and stew and mead splattering the ground. Alistair pulled her frail body away from the mess and she collapsed in his lap.

Duncan had been running when he appeared. "In the name of Andraste, how?" He helped Alistair turn Aela over.

"She just... woke up," Alistair replied.

Aela looked over and saw that Ser Jory and Daveth's bodies were gone, and that her body had been dragged many paces towards a pyre. The thought of her burning made her retch again. Duncan crouched and put a hand on her shoulder, smiling.

"Welcome back, Aela."

"Hmmmnnn..." Aela groaned.

Duncan fixed his eyes on her cheek. "You must have split your cheek when you fell. We'll get that bandaged for you. But the soldiers are marching out, and we need you."

Aela tried to stand, feeling stronger with every breath.

"How long was I gone for?" she asked groggily.

"Twenty minutes," was the reply. "We didn't think you'd make it."

"I don't think I was supposed to... but I guess I should be glad."

"Come, let's leave the pyre," Duncan declared. "The Tower of Ishal is where you two will go once we begin the march. You will have to light the beacon to signal Loghain's men to lead the rest of the force."

The only thing Aela could do was nod once before readjusting Biter to her hip, her cheek burning as if it had been kissed by flame.

* * *

_The party huddled under Denerim in the underground passage, waiting for the wave of slaughter to pause for a single moment. They were alive with anticipation and excitement, and Oghren was having trouble keeping quiet. Wynne drank a vial of lyrium and made a foul expression, which would usually earn her a laugh or two, but everyone knew this was the most inappropriate time._

_Aela scratched at her scarred cheek and frowned. She looked up at the doors they would exit from, but the sounds of the darkspawn outside made them hesitate to regain their focus. Riordan cupped Aela's elbow to catch her attention._

_"The archdemon is close-by, but since you are new to the Taint, he will look for you first. I'll climb Fort Drakon and try to kill him while he's distracted."_

_Aela nodded. "Are you sure that's how you want it?"_

_"My lady," Riordan sighed, "You are young, and I am old, and Alistair is king. It has to be me."_

_"What if that doesn't work?" she asked with a hint of fear._

_"We don't think about that," Riordan said simply._

_Aela fumed and put her hand to the door. She did not want to open it. She began to get scared, the power of the archdemon shaking her to her core. Her head and her body kept yelling at her, tell her he was outside._

_"Leliana," she beckoned. "Wynne, put out the light. I need a song. "_

_The air around them was stale and hushed, and when Wynne willed the magical light away, it was totally dark. Leliana at first was quiet before the air around her began to vibrate. She sang in a different language as Aela grabbed the nearest hand. It squeezed hers, and eventually, her other hand was taken up. Everyone held onto each other, trembling, crying, anxious, as Leliana sang. The power that came from the bard made Aela almost ready to face anything and everything._

_"Maker preserve us," she thought to herself. "If not their bodies, their spirits. May they survive this terror and any others, and may they see another sunrise. May they live on like a rose, impossibly bloomed in a world of death... may they live on in the memories of others as heros."_

_Once the song was done, there was a stunned silence among them before Aela drew her sword, crying out the loudest warcry she had ever mustered. She kicked open the doors and the party spilled onto the battlefield._


	4. Broken Bones and Broken Hearts

**_A special thanks to MirandaBasilisk and Kris for their kind reviews. Sorry about the wait, working overtime, but this chappie is a doozie. Sorry about all the typos so far, I will get better once I get a working keyboard! _**

* * *

**Chapter 4: Broken Bones and Broken Hearts**

"Keep going Aela!" Alistair yelled. "I'm right behind you!"

Aela wiped the back of her gloved hand over her still-bleeding cheek, which had never been bandaged. She had Biter in her hand, her training dagger in the other, and with them she hacked the darkspawn down.

Three floors of darkspawn had tried to overpower them. Since the Joining, Aela found her vision cleared, her swings stronger, and her instincts sharpened. But every time she sliced into a wretched, rotten darkspawn, her heart twisted beneath her chest and her head filled with waking nightmares. It took every leaderly bark from Alistair behind her to keep her focussed.

Once the last of the darkspawn had been killed, Aela put her hands on her knees. She sucked in air and tried to catch her breath while Alistair rolled his shoulders. The mage behind them searched his pockets for more lyrium and was disappointed when he found nothing.

"We should have lit that beacon an hour ago," he said harshly. "Maker's breath, those things are everywhere."

Aela forced herself up the staircase. Her legs were bleeding and some bones were broken, but nothing compared to her new-found fear: if she found no sign of Fergus in the Wilds, he could be on the battlefield, or at least close by. If he was on the battlefield, he needed Loghain. If he needed Loghain, she needed to light the beacon. Spurred by her brother's potential suffering, Aela climbed up the stairs two at a time with Alistair close behind her.

All of a sudden, Alistair seized Aela's arm and held her from the door.

"What are you doing?" the mage asked hurriedly. "The beacon is in there!"

"I know," Alistair growled. "Aela, do you feel that?"

Aela was new to the Taint, but she felt her heart spasm beneath her breast. Something was in there, something big. She nodded and looked at Alistair, silent. Alistair pursed his lips and nodded once, signalling her to open the door.

When the mage and soldiers ran in, they immediately skidded to a halt.

Aela at the time did not know the name of the beast in front of them, but Alistair knew very well of the Ogre that stood hunched in the middle of the beacon pyre. To Aela, she saw a gigantic monolith of a creature, larger than a horse, and in the shape of a darkspawn. Huge, wide horns extended from the back of its head, and his jaws dislocated with every movement of his frothing mouth. He was eating something noisily, crunching on bones and splitting organs open. The Ogre reared his head and glared at them for their intrusion. He slammed the tower guard's body against the stone, spattering whatever was left into a meaty heap. He roared and Aela felt her legs turn numb, a different type of numb than the emissary poison.

"Andraste's ashes," the mage choked. Aela's eyes were so wide, she thought they would fall out. She didn't breathe, and Alistair had his sword up.

"That's not good," Alistair breathed.

The Ogre charged them. Aela peeled off to the side and covered her head as the Ogre threw his fist forward. The mage was not so fortunate, and his head gave out between the wall and the Ogre's fist. The Ogre locked eyes with Aela and ran for her instead. Aela scrambled to her feet and tried to flee. She slipped on a puddle consisting of something grotesque and she fell onto her chest. She rolled over and skittered back. She smelled its breath and squeezed her eyes shut. .

"Oi! Nug humper!" Alistair yelled. The Ogre halted and growled while Aela managed to regain her stance and disappear. Alistair crouched and repositioned his sword in his hand. "Yeah, you, the one who crawled out of Dumat's arse."

It was as if the Ogre knew what Alistair had said, and the beast scowled. It bellowed and turned his body to stand in a confrontational position to the warrior, before -

Aela leapt onto the beast's back, sinking her training dagger into the Ogre's neck. The Ogre howled. Aela screamed and reached around with Biter, sinking it into the right side of the Ogre's chest. Again and again she pulled the dagger back and hacked away, screaming and screaming. Blood spurted onto her face from every cleave to his neck.

Alistair stared for a moment at the spectacle before he ran for the Ogre and slashed at its thighs. Blood fountained forward, and Alistair smiled just before the beast kicked him back. Alistair went airborne for a moment before he crashed into the ground. Aela cried out, yelling at him to get up, fearing the worst. He sat up and groaned. Luckily, he was only winded, but his sword had been knocked out of his grip.

The beast reached over its horns and seized Aela. He tore her from his back and squeezed her in his fist. There was a horrific crunching sound. Aela felt her pelvis break on itself and the feeling was so great, she almost went faint. Instead, the sound Aela made was almost inhuman, a scream that betrayed every ounce of pain that her little body experienced. She sobbed as the Ogre chortled. Alistair eyes widened as the Ogre flailed her around, knocking around the broken pieces of her glass figure. It brought her close to his frothing mouth.

"Alistair!" Aela cried. She slashed her sword across the Ogre's face desperately, splitting his face ear-to-ear. It shrieked in shock and anger. Alistair frantically probed for his sword. "_ALISTAIR!_"

"Shit!" Alistair yelled. He turned to the beast and hesitated, thinking for a moment before he sprinted to the beast and shoved his hand into the gashes Aela had created. He clenched a fist around the meat he felt and squeezed, looking over his shoulder at Aela's fear-stricken face. Aela saw the determination in his eyes and gritted teeth as he squeezed harder still.

The Ogre flung Aela into the beacon pyre to free his hand. She hit the wood and crumpled against it, her world going dark. But Alistair held fast and waited for the Ogre to drop to its knees. The Ogre grabbed him, but when the Ogre ripped Alistair away, Alistair pulled a fistful of the Ogre's internal veins and arteries and muscles with him. While seizing under the pain, the Ogre loosened his grip on Alistair, who limped away and took up a sword. The Ogre clawed at his neck, drowning in his own life force, before Alistair cried out gallantly and thrust his blade into the beast's mouth. It fell with a vibrating thump.

Alistair wasted no time running to Aela, who was coming to. He was afraid to touch her.

"Light it," she spat through her teeth, weak and suffering. "Light the damn thing."

"I can't," he stammered. "You're on it."

"Move me."

He didn't want to. Her hips and legs were mangled and useless. She bled from her mouth and her cheek, and everywhere else looked misshapen, broken. She reached up with one hand and clasped his.

"Please, just do it."

Alistair frowned and gripped her hand. "Deep breath."

He pulled her from the pyre and she groaned and cried. She tried her hardest, but the sounds still escaped her lips until Alistair stopped. He grabbed a torch and lit it. He stepped back and returned to Aela. He knelt next to her.

"Where does it hurt?" he asked, placing a hand on her cheek.

"Is it lit?" Aela struggled to say.

Alistair nodded. "It's lit. Where does it hurt?"

Aela shook her head and tried to give him a reassuring smile, her teeth red. "I'm not going to make it."

"Don't say that, we'll find you healing magic."

Those were the last words her mother said to her father. She found herself finally understanding his haunting refusal. She bit back bitter tears. "I want... to see..."

She gestured to the window as best as she could until Alistair tried to delicately pick her up. It hurt everywhere, but Alistair managed to drape her arms over his shoulder. His legs shook as he stumbled towards the window over debris and broken bodies. They looked out and Alistair went rigid. Aela squinted at the marching lights of Loghain's army.

"That's not the right way," Alistair muttered. Aela's anger peaked.

"What?!" Aela cried frantically.

"They're leaving!" he replied. "That bastard, that traitorous no-good lying bastard!"

The battle below looked bleak, and Aela and Alistair were quieted as they realized the soldiers that had survived so far were easy pickings. That included them.

The door smashed open and darkspawn spilled in. Aela fell to the ground as Alistair grabbed his sword from the ground.

"Run!" Aela yelled. Alistair shook his head once, daring them to approach.

It was a short fight. A Hurlock with a club took one blow from Alistair, but did not fall before cracking its club over Alistair's head. The warrior fell to his knees before collapsing on the ground. Aela tried to pull herself up. The strength just wasn't there. Before another darkspawn could deal her own final blow, the tower shook violently.

The roof was torn off and bricks fell onto the unfortunate enemies below. A dragon clawed its way in and snapped its jaws before turning its massive head to Aela, who had finally had enough. Her eyes rolled back as the dragon lunged forward and closed its hungry jaws around her broken hips, and she saw nothing but blackness behind her dying eyes.

Aela didn't expect her dreams to end, but when they faded away and she felt wakefulness approach, the first thing she did was furrow her eyebrows.

"Did you know that a human body can burn for up to three hours?" a vaguely familiar voice asked. Aela peeled open her tired eyes and looked over. She blinked at Morrigan, who was looking up from a book, her figure seated neatly in a fur-lined chair in the corner. "'Tis truly fascinating, if I do say so myself." Morrigan closed her book with one swift movement and stood. She waved the book in front of Aela. "The Chantry stories you people revere spare many details. I'm surprised they left the whole bit about Andraste in there."

Aela sat up with little effort. "What happened? Where am I?"

Morrigan took it upon herself to cross her arms and cock a hip. "What happened was your 'ally' fled the battlefield with the rest of your 'trusted' army, and everyone else perished. As for where you are, you're in my bed." Morrigan squinted at Aela. "You're very welcome."

There was a moment of silence. "Everyone else?" Aela clarified.

"Aye, everyone. Your companion is hardly taking it well."

Aela pursed her lips and clenched her teeth. She removed her blankets gently and looked at her bare legs, which were completely unmarked and free of scars and gashes. "My injuries..."

"Were severe!" Morrigan scoffed, as if Aela had inconvenienced her. "Your hips, for one, were absolutely mutilated, and your legs were as useful as the Circle. Luckily, mother dearest," she sighed with annoyance, "forced the pieces back together."

Aela ran her hands through her hair. She kept her eyes shut. She didn't entirely want to think of the sound her pelvis made when it was shattered. The remembrance of the pain alone was enough for her mouth to taste bitter. Then she remembered Alistair.

Aela left the bed and grabbed her armour from the other side of the room. She pulled it on sloppily, ducking around Morrigan, who followed her constantly with her eyes. Her weapons had been returned as well, and she liked them in her hands. In a tattered and blotch-riddled mirror, Aela took one second to look at her face.

Along her cheek was a thin mark. She squinted at it and brushed her fingers along it. The scar was thick and noticeable, and made her face look striking.

"It wouldn't heal without a scar, oddly enough," Morrigan remarked. "Usually my mother's magic avoids scars, but that cut... 'twas quite stubborn, more so than myself."

Aela dropped her hand and turned back to Morrigan, grabbing Biter and her dagger from the floor. "Thank you, Morrigan."

Morrigan's eyebrows disappeared into her hairline in surprise. "'Twasn't my help that saved you but... you're welcome."

She wasted no time in opening the door and finding her way out of the hut.

"Ah, finally," Flemeth's voice cackled as she looked Aela up and down. "Perfect. Try to talk some sense into him, will you?"

Alistair stared over the swamp. His usual strong stature was replaced by defeated shoulders and weak knees. His arms were crossed over his chest as if it would protect him, and when Aela approached him, he didn't look at her. Aela stood slightly behind him, and he refused to look at her.

"Please, don't. One witch is enough, thanks," Alistair murmured.

Aela forced her smile back. "You always I assume I'm someone I'm not. First, you thought I was a messenger, now - "

Her companion whirled around and gawked at her. He grabbed her and crushed her against his chest.

"Thank the Maker," he said hoarsely. "I thought you were gone, too." He pulled back and scoured her body for injuries. He brushed a thumb over her cheek innocently. "Only a scar. Thank Andraste."

"Pah! Thank Flemeth," Morrigan interjected. But Flemeth put up a silencing hand and screwed her eyes on Aela and Alistair.

"Didn't I tell you, boy," Flemeth articulated sharply, "that you may have desired my company?"

"'Desire' isn't how I would have put it... but I suppose I should be grateful."

Flemeth harrumphed and waved her hand at Alistair. Morrigan stood next to her and Aela was realizing she had a hard time seeing any difference in the two, besides appearance. For some reason, the idea brought her to think of Fergus. She bounced on her feet in sudden remembrance and she stepped towards the two witches.

"Have there been any other wanderers?" Aela asked hurriedly. "Scouts, soldiers even? You see... a friend of mine was sent into the Wilds to scout and I couldn't find any sign of him in my own travels."

Morrigan raised an eyebrow, mouth twisted. "A friend?"

"Aye, a friend," Aela replied, annoyed. "I need to find him."

Flemeth shrugged. "The WIlds are unforgiving. If your friend fell into a swamp, would we know? Probably not. So I wouldn't put wagers on it. That being said, he could have gotten swept up in Ostagar."

Aela's heart sank, but she nodded once. "Then I have to go back to Ostagar."

Alistair shifted beside her, clearing his throat of an emotional lump. "We both need to find things in Ostagar before we... figure out our next move."

"Which, I presume, has to do with your treaties?" Flemeth inquired. Aela blinked and took a moment to remember the documents she had on her person. Her shoulders felt heavier. Alistair nodded and Flemeth clapped her hands together as if the discussion was finished.

"Well, now that our army is ready," she said, "I best give them their parting gift, eh Morrigan?"

Morrigan stormed ahead and shoved through the Wilds brush, Alistair and Aela trying to keep up. "Parting gift?! _Parting gift_?!" she cried and a shrill and furious voice. "Am I _nothing_ to that woman?! Or am I nothing but a common object?!"

The young witch, the first companion of the Grey Wardens of Ferelden, spat out every curse word she had knowledge of as she plowed through the forest. She barely left any time for the Grey Wardens themselves catch up. The road back to Ostagar was different than the last time; this time, every step weighed the soldiers down more, dreading the sights they'd be seeing.

The smell of burning wood was the first to itch their nose. Death followed closely. The stench made them have sour expressions, and Morrigan's banter had ceased for the time being as they stepped into the muddy battlefield.

"I don't know... if I want to see him." Alistair ran the back of his hand over his nose. Aela agreed and she put a hand on his arm, trying to be reassuring.

"Just stay together."

They were slowly drifting over bodies, enemy and ally, old and young. Aela hated the idea of young boys on the battlefield, and she despised the sight of them dead on the frontlines. They carried on until they both slowly stopped. They looked ahead and Aela tighted her grip on Alistair's arm.

Another Ogre, one slightly larger than the one that had been at the beacon, lie in the muck, stiff and rank. Out of its chest protruded two blades of amazing craftmanship, a dagger and sword duo that even Aela could recognize as Duncans. Alistair hiccupped and shook.

They took a moment to stare before Aela broke away from Alistair. She carefully scaled the monster corpse and heaved the weapons from its body with some she jumped to the ground, she offered the pair to Alistair.

"You lost your sword saving me last night," she said shakily. Alistair had a small, tear-filled smile as he grabbed only the sword. Aela could tell Alistair found it heavy. She held onto the dagger.

"You're going to need something better than that training thing," Alistair retorted meekly. "That way, we'll both have something."

They never found Duncan's body, and they reentered Ostagar Fortress. They split up while Morrigan explored with morbid curiousity. Alistair disappeared while Aela immediately marched to the dog kennels. She had left Duckling there when she had left for the tower, and she never came back. She wanted to check, but of course, he was nowhere to be found. Aela bit back anger at the loss of her mabari hound, but that didn't stop her from looting chests for supplies.

The first scattered chest mostly held healing supplies and potions, but one gold chest stood out to her. It took her four tries to bust the lock open. She lifted the lid and peered inside. There was a shield and some tattered documents within that made her sit and reach inside. The shield, she noticed, was of the finest make, and there were two fighting dogs upon it. She gulped when she recognized the Theirin crest. Upon the back, the inscription 'to Maric, both my sword and shield in this world, from Loghain' stood out like a flower in a swamp.

She wanted to break it. Loghain's name burned the back of her throat with a passion, and for him to betray his true friend's child in battle made her bloodthirsty. She took pause before she bitterly strapped it to her back. She grabbed the documents next and flipped through them, seeing certain important exchanges between King Cailan and the Empress of Orlais, promising him more Grey Wardens to help with the Blight. She pocketed that particular postage and read more. Most were old battleplans and some letters from his wife Queen Anora that were not romantic in nature.

Alistair walked to her with another chest in his hands. He dropped it infront of her, his face red. "I can't open this blasted thing. It's Loghain's."

Aela pursed her lips before she popped open the lock with slightly less difficulty than King Cailan's. She wrenched open the top and Alistair rummaged around inside it, muttering. He handed most of the papers to her while he pocketed the coin for the cause. He had a few scattered letters in his hand. He read one after the other quickly and faltered on one. He frowned and snickered. Aela looked up from her own letter as Alistair shook his head slowly.

"That bastard," he spat. "Listen to this: 'My lord, I am elated to inform you that Highever has been seized as you desired, and the Cousland line is all but destroyed...'"

Aela froze.

"'Bryce and Eleanor were both killed, along with their grandchild and daughter. Their son is marching out on the battlefield; I suggest, If I may, sending him out in the Wilds before word reaches him, even though most are convinced it was an unfortunate fire. But With the Couslands gone, I now announce my official title as Teryn of Highever and Amaranthine. This marks a huge advantage for your next step.

"'I will meet with you in Denerim once you return. I hope you manage to slip out before things get complicated. Signed, Arl Rendon Howe.'"

Alistair shook his head. "I can't believe it... traitors are sprouting up and about like - Aela?"

His eyes wavered on her rigid form, her skin pale and clammy. The warrior reached a hand to the young woman.

"Are you alright?" he asked quietly.

She shirked from his hand and cringed. "That's awful," she managed. Alistair had no idea Aela herself was the daughter Howe presumed dead, and it took every drop of willpower within her to mask her grief. Truth be told, she wanted to kill something, a trait she had never felt before. Rage was a new feeling to the noble lady, but it began to consume her with every breath. She distracted herself by pulling Maric's shield from her back. She thrust it into Alistair's hands before she stood.

Alistair choked on his own breath. "This... this is King Maric's."

To Aela's surprise, instead of immediately replacing his cracked iron shield, Alistair held it away from him. "I can't take this."

"Your other one is broken," Aela said hoarsely, the letter burning in her mind. "You need something that will last you."

"No, you don't understand," Alistair interjected. His features became dark and uneasy. "Aela, really, I'm fine."

The rage threatened to spill over as Aela wrinkled her nose. "The king is _dead_, Alistair. And we have no coin to replace that plank you call a shield. We are alone, hungry, and lost, so I suggest you stop being difficult and put the damn thing on your back."

He was stunned by her words; the tone of her voice in her own ears made her grimace. She spun around and stomped to the bridge. She flicked away tears before Morrigan saw them, anger brewing beneath her skin. When Morrigan saw her, she was wise enough to let it be, even though it was obvious.

Aela shoved past her and began the long walk across the Ostagar bridge, which had miraculously survived the attack, albeit barely. Alistair and Morrigan silently followed, Alistair rolling his shoulders under Maric's shield. He hated it, but Aela could care less as to why. When he snatched her arm suddenly, she was ready to whirl around and crack him over the head with her fist - an act spurred by misplaced anger towards Howe, not him, although his head would do - but his face made her reconsider.

He was white as a ghost, his body rigid. He gulped and opened his mouth as he looked onward. Aela followed his gaze. She almost didn't recognize King Cailan's body, but he could not mistake the dirty golden hair and the the figure. His body had been morbidly staked oh a Wilds tree that had been wedged into a large crack in the bridge. His body could be seen from any other outpost in Ostagar. His swelling corpse attracted the birds of the Wilds, which had already feasted on him. Morrigan cocked her head to the side at the sight.

"I dare say, 'tis quite cruel, even for my standards."

"Aye," Aela agreed numbly. Alistair still gripped her arm. "There's nothing we can do, now."

Alistair tugged on her. "We need to burn him," he declared firmly. "This is disgusting."

Morrigan crossed her arms and frowned. "'Twould be foolish to send smoke into the air at this hour. We don't want unwanted eyes on us, I would think."

Aela hated to agree, but the sight of Cailan's body exposed to the elements made her very uneasy.

"Please," Alistair insisted. She thought for a moment. If it were Fergus mounted upon the gnarled branch, she'd try to send him to the Maker as well. She wasn't sure why Alistair felt the same need, but she stepped forward and climbed the step holding the tree up. Holding her breath, she grabbed Cailan's left hand and found his royal ring. She pulled it off and almost gagged before she jumped down. She pocketed the ring, mentioning something along the lines of waste not, want not, and she asked Morrigan to light the body. The witch placed her hands together to make a small ball of fire which she tossed onto Cailan as if he were a pile of objects.

Aela turned away from the light of the flames and swallowed down her sorrow. As a Cousland, she was born into a life of nobility and expectation. When she was born, Bryce and Maric discussed a marriage between their children, but when Loghain's wife gave birth to Anora, Maric betrothed Cailan to her instead; it was not unexpected as Loghain and Maric remained allies after the Orlesian war. Aela was glad she was not his wife then, but still felt pain for her queen. She felt the ring in her satchel with her raw fingers and thought to herself for a quiet moment before she heard a whine ahead of her.

A small shape stumbled towards her. She felt her spirits lift and her mouth break out into a smile.

"Duckling!" she cried. The mabari hound limped towards her, tongue hanging out and his breaths wheezy. Morrigan and Alistair both shared a confused look as Aela raced to him, jumping over bodies and tripping over her own feet. She was crying and laughing at the same time as she fell to her knees and Duckling crashed into her. Duckling licked her face and tried to contain himself as her two companions approached with caution.

"Is that… a mabari war hound?"

Aela nodded happily as she cooed to her slightly injured hound. Morrigan wrinkled her nose.

"I can smell him from here, and Alistair is standing right next to me."

Alistair frowned. "Please don't, I'm not in the mood. Anyway, we need to go. Lothering is close by, and I really don't want to be here."

While Morrigan and Aela and Duckling led the way out, Alistair lingered for a moment and stared at the burning body of his late king, and felt an ominous feeling growing on his back under Maric's shield, or maybe it was the shield itself that weighed him down. He was not sure which the cause of the burden was.

* * *

_The battle raged on, and Aela's party was holding strong. Their teamwork kept them on their feet and their weapons in their hands. But this fight was different. This fight trumped all others they had fought, and Aela was already feeling unsure of her plan. She always looked to Riordan to make sure the senior Grey Warden was standing. So long as he was, she did not panic._

_But injuries were already adding up. Wynne was grimacing as blood blossomed her robes and even Sten had the slightest look of uncertainty in his eyes. There were just so many creatures, so many bodies, so much blood, black and red in the mud and on the soldiers. _

_The last of the immediate horde was defeated, and as the second wave ran in, hands grabbed Aela and shoved her forward violently. "Get them into the castle!" Sten ordered. His huge hands hauled Aela off the ground and heaved her forward. Alistair was being shoved, too, and Riordan grunted when Oghren kicked him to move faster. Duckling took the rear and bit at their ankles to make them run twice as fast. _

_"Sten, let go!" Aela yelled. _

_"No. I'm to get the Grey Wardens into the castle."_

_"Don't focus on me, focus on yourself!"_

_Sten crashed into a side door in the castle, a small reinforced wooden door that peasants ran back and forth from during a normal day. But now, it was an escape route. The party flooded inward and Eamon and Teagan slammed it shut. They blocked the entrance with any furniture they could find while Aela wrenched out of Sten's hands._

_"Do not jeopardize this group, Sten!" she yelled angrily. "You focus on yourself, not me!"_

_The party went quiet at Aela's outburst. Sten merely gave his Qunari version of a shrug. "You have had a common mission, as have I. All I am meant to do is make sure you make it to the final stand. That is all we are meant for."_

_Aela closed her mouth and had no argument. "You are more than that, Sten. You are all more than that."_

_"Not today," Wynne said as she healed herself. "Do you think I would be out here if it wasn't with you?"_

_"The fight cannot end without us," Alistair interjected. "We need all the help we can get, although I would rather Duckling bark at the enemy and not me."_

_Duckling barked happily at Alistair. Alistair rolled his eyes. _

_But he was right. Aela looked over her party and felt her courage tremble. She didn't want her friends, her new family, to sacrifice themselves. That was Riordan's job. She wanted them safe, and she was dragging them into battle. _

_Alistair pulled Aela close in a non-romantic way. "Come on, we have little time."_

_She unsheathed Biter angrily and turned to Eamon and Teagan. _

_"Where do we go from here?"_

_Teagan shifted his weight. "Through the throne room. I will lead the way. Come."_

_The party rushed out. Alistair led the way into the throne room, a fitting gesture as he was now Ferelden's king, but it was not trumpets and cheers they heard. The castle rocked and everyone stumbled. Aela and Alistair and Riordan alike cringed and reflexively covered their ears. The scream of the archdemon, the feeling of his blood thirst, made them all gasp. Riordan instantly blocked it out and led them onward with new determination wile Alistair took an extra moment to regain control. _

_Aela, however, had always had problems blocking the archdemon from her mind, and she howled as it growled at her, screamed at her, caressed her mind pervertedly. _

_"Come, Grey Warden," he seemed to say. "I cannot wait to see your face as I destroy everything you love, everything you hold dear, everything you have ever cared for, in the most horrible and terrifying way you could possibly imagine."_

_Alistair yelled at Aela to block it out. Her nose began to bleed, she was trying so hard to beat him out._

_"I will wring their bodies like rags and spill their blood onto my children, my army, and you will watch before I let them devour you, inch by inch, until you are nothing but a screaming memory. Your bones will be left as wind chimes to your castle, so the spirits of your ancestors will hear your song of death."_

_Aela doubled over. Her party ushered her onward as light fixtures fell from the ceiling. She fell to her knees, clutching her head. Alistair tried to pull her forward. Zevran slung his bow across his chest and helped him. _

_"You are weak. You are but moth wings in a fire."_

_"Enough!" another voice bellowed in her mind. Ease began to fill Aela's mind as a womanly voice echoed against the archdemon's presence. "You will not hurt her, you will not stop her. She is the one who will bring you down, she is the one you will tremble beneath."_

_It was the woman Aela saw the night of her Joining, the woman who had forced her from the Fade, back into her body. _

_"Run, my child. Run and slay this abomination. Your mind is strong, your will is invincible. Fire runs in your veins, use the burn to carry you on."_

_All the voices stopped at once and Aela regained full consciousness. She kicked herself onto her feet. Alistair grabbed her and gave her a shake. _

_"Aela!" he cried. "Andraste's embers, what is going on?!"_

_Aela ran her hand over her nose to wipe away the blood. She spat to the side and rolled her shoulders. _

_"I don't know," she said hoarsely. "But I don't want to find out what happens if we fail."_


	5. The Right Time

**Here come another doozie chapter. And I just broke 20,000 words! A special thanks to YunikuRebekit for following and fifespice for reviewing every chappie so far! Your support encourages me to write more about Aela.**

* * *

**Chapter 5: The Right Time**

If Morrigan, Alistair, and Aela had any expectations of Lothering being better than Ostagar, they were disappointed and saddened. The people were starving and frightened, the shopkeepers looked about nervously as they asked for more coin than usual, and the priests even seemed shaken with their faith.

Alistair followed Aela, who kept a hand on Duckling, as they entered the small village. He wondered about her war hound; they were proud and noble creatures, fierce and courageous as they were bulky and tough. They were also expensive. He knew it was possible for Aela to have stumbled upon him, but he also knew mabari pups were very expensive and rare, too expensive for a commoner to buy.

He knew Aela was a respectable lady, at least in the way she spoke and walked, but as far as blood went, he had no clue. She kept that part of herself a secret, and while he did the same about his own heritage, his curiosity grew with each hour they spent near each other. It was not a romantic interest, but a practical one; a noble couldn't just run or be taken from her family without news floating about. Whoever she was, though, she was a quick learner and his only Warden companion. He wanted to find out more about her, but it would take time.

They passed a cage along the way on the road before the houses rose into Lothering. The three fighters and hound stopped and looked at the Qunari inside. He looked at them with a vacant expression.

"Why is it your people find need in staring?" he said in a gruff voice. Duckling pulled his ears back and growled. Aela bowed her head.

"I'm sorry, I have never seen a Qunari in person before," she said politely.

The Qunari raised an eyebrow. "I am not a commodity. Leave me be to my fate."

"This is an execution cage," Alistair noted in Aela's ear. "Whatever he did, we don't want to know."

But Morrigan bravely approached the cage and put her hands on the bars. She leaned against the cage lazily and seductively. She grinned mischievously, tempted the giant in a dangerous way. "What sin have you committed to put you in here?" she asked nonchalantly. The beast had no expression at her courage.

"I killed a farming family," he said both bluntly and coldly. "And that act made the leader of your religious outpost confine me to my death. Asit tal-eb."

Aela twisted her mouth in thought. "Do you have a word or a name you call yourself?"

"You act as if you know some of my culture, saying I may be called a word instead," the man said with the tiniest hint of intrigue. "I am called Sten."

"So you were a general," Aela completed.

"I did not say that," Sten said.

"Sten would hale from Karasten. Commander, general, lieutenant, and so forth."

Sten's mouth twitched, but he did not move beyond that. Alistair, however, was picking up on the fact that Aela may have been educated far more than most. Another rare and expensive attribute. His head hurt from trying to keep up.

"Not anymore," he replied.

"Qunari never stop being what they are… What if I were to let you out, would you be my soldier?"

Alistair's jaw dropped. "You can't be serious."

Morrigan looked over a pale shoulder with a smile on her face. "I'm beginning to like you."

"You ask me to be under your command?" Sten asked monotonously. "I am used to commanding, not being commanded."

"You are also used to being out of cages, I would think."

"Parshaara," Sten spat. "You use your words carefully, but I have accepted my fate. If it were to change, then so be it. Until then, I look to my death."

Aela took a moment to glare at him some more before she left the cage. She entered Lothering. Alistair caught up, brow furrowed.

"You know a lot," he noted. Aela scoffed and looked onward. Alistair grew annoyed. "How is it that someone with no history has a reason to learn etiquette and Qunari culture, and have a mabari war hound, and become a Grey Warden?"

Aela spun to face him, face angry. "I told you to drop the subject, Alistair."

Alistair frowned. "I am simply making an observation."

"Then keep those observations to yourself. Where I come from and what I have been through is dangerous information, and not what I'd like to share. Understand?"

He did, but he didn't want to admit it.

"King Cailan is dead, the Couslands are dead –" Aela's voice caught on her words, but she cleared her throat and plowed on through. "– and Loghain is probably working on usurping the throne. I would really like to stay out of that mess and focus on the darkspawn and I'm starting by asking you to mind your own business."

Alistair frowned, but did not stop her from returning to her brisk pace. He remembered Flemeth make a remark about how she had seen suffering within Aela. She was bottling it up, then, and he knew that was a danger to the mission. He had a hard time with Duncan's passing; it showed and maybe it was annoying, but it was better than pretending it didn't matter. Maybe she was afraid to grieve. Maybe she never had a chance to. Alistair grew worried for her.

They made their way into a tavern for supplies, leaving Duckling outside. Morrigan dodged unwelcome contact with the huge amount of people crowded inside, and she muttered under her breath about all the touching one went through in society, and made it clear that she hated it. Meanwhile, Aela looked simply uncomfortable. She looked around the inside of the building and had a despairing look on her face. Alistair was behind her when she turned to him.

"The only thing I will admit is that I am not sure what to do," she muttered. "I haven't been to many taverns."

Another clue for Alistair: high-class ladies had little use for common places like pubs. He couldn't help but smile at her. She had her adorable moments.

"We find the owner or shopkeeper and trade," Alistair informed. "Depending on what he has and what he wants, we look at his wares and he looks at ours."

"Just help me find him. We need to get out of here."

Alistair huffed and stood on his toes to look over the heads of desperate refugees and drunk regulars. There was a woman dressed in Chantry robes singing in the main area, and a clutch of suspicious-looking soldiers listened to her crudely. Beside her by the counter was the shopkeeper, who looked both exhausted and worried. Alistair made a move for him, Morrigan following and Aela trailing behind her.

Since the tavern was bursting with folk, Aela's petite body was thrashed around by the drunks swaying with the woman's song, and she smacked her hand into a soldier. She gave a small apology and moved on before she felt eyes on her.

"Oi!" a voice barked. "Woman!"

Aela faltered and looked over her shoulder. The soldier was looking at her, pint in hand and eyes inspecting. Another soldier stepped behind Aela, blocking her path to the shopkeeper. Morrigan grabbed Alistair to alert him as the soldier sneered.

"You're the Grey Warden from Ostagar, eh?" he growled. "The one that let our king fall!"

The tavern hushed. The woman stopped singing and she looked at Aela. Aela didn't pay her much attention. She merely lifted her hand and shook her head.

"You must have me mistaken for someone else," she said with a false smile.

"Shut it," the man hissed. "I'd recognize those looks if you were covered in shit. White hair, green eyes, so on and so on, and a bloody traitor."

"That is both a harsh and false accusation!" Aela replied.

"Teryn Loghain issued the order today that you and the other Grey Warden, probably that bloke over there –" He gestured at Alistair with his pint. "– be arrested and or killed, although I haven't decided which."

The Chantry woman, who had stopped singing, smiled and raised her hands in peace. "Gentleman, surely you cannot see this is a misunderstanding?"

Her accent made Aela blink before the man barked at her.

"I'm paying you to sing, tavern bitch!" the soldier drunkenly yelled. "So start singing!"

The woman glared and pursed her lips. "As you wish."

She began to sing a different hymn once she turned around.

"O Maker, O Maker, your breath gives us life…" she began to sing. The soldier grabbed onto Aela harshly. She yelped, suddenly tiny and scared. Alistair jumped and threw his hand to his sword. But in one swift movement, the singer grabbed a bottle from the counter and whirled around. A swirl of skirts and fiery red hair, and she smashed the glass bottle over the soldier's head.

"…it gives us courage against all strife…" she continued without faltering, a smile on her lips. The soldier grunted and fell, letting go of Aela and falling to the floor.

She did not miss a beat in her song, and when the tavern exploded, she did not stop. Soldiers drew their swords and tried to attack Alistair and Aela while they put up their defenses. The singer leapt onto the bar and lifted her skirts for her to deliver a graceful and yet deadly kick to another soldier's head. He fell.

"…and one day soon you'll kiss the earth…"

Alistair punched another soldier into the Fade. Aela, however, was not trained for offensive, but defensive, and the lead soldier grabbed her and began to haul her through the crowd. The singer swiped a dagger from thin air – or some customer's pocket – and grabbed the soldier. She smashed her fist into his mouth. His head snapped back and he released Aela and fell onto his chest. She wrenched his head back and rested the blade on his throat.

"…and join us with your ashen wife." The song stopped and she smiled. The rest of the soldiers stopped as their leader wrestled againt the singer's red steel grip. "Shall I keep singing, then?"

Alistair laughed in awe while Morrigan smiled, impressed. Aela stepped back and caught her breath. The rest of the tavern ws quiet save for the groaning and moaning soldiers that had fallen.

"Wench! Chantry whore!" the soldier grunted. The woman pressed the blade harder against his neck. He flapped his arms. "Okay, okay, I yield!"

The woman didn't let go. She gave a beautiful laugh that made Aela's heart flutter strangely. "Surely, you understand that these people are simply travelers looking for food and drink."

"I am no fool!"

"Please don't make me kill you, I really don't want to ruin my shoes."

Aela placed a hand on the woman's shoulder. It was bizarre to pull a Chantry woman from a soldier. But the woman blinked and looked up at her.

"It's alright," Aela said. The woman let go of the soldier, who flipped onto his back and glared at Aela. "Do you like your life?" she asked coldly.

The soldier spat on her boots. She cringed. She ripped Biter out of its sheathe and tore Duncan's dagger from her back. She stomped onto the soldier's chest and thrust Biter under his chin. The soldier sucked in a breath.

"Yes, of course I do!" he hissed.

"Then I'll let you live if you deliver a message to Loghain."

The soldier sneered. "Fine."

Aela grew very manic. "Tell him the Grey Wardens are coming for him. Tell him they know the truth about everything he has done.

The soldier took a moment before nodding once. "Alright. Just let me go."

The Grey Warden raised an eyebrow before she jabbed her sword against the side of his face. A gash along his cheek formed and the soldier cried out in shock. But he did not move to attack Aela. She smiled at the soldier.

"Take that as a token," she said, gesturing to her own cheek. "Now we match."

Once the soldiers filed out, some carrying others, Aela turned to the woman, who looked at her expectantly.

"That was impressive for a servant of the Chantry," Alistair mused.

The woman raised a humbling hand. "Oh, no, I am no longer a part of the Chantry. I left this morning."

"That's… not much of a change."

"Thank you for your help," Aela interrupted. "I am Aela, and these are my…" She didn't know what to call them. "…friends, Morrigan and Alistair."

"I am Leliana," the woman replied. She bowed gracefully. When she straightened up, she clasped her hands. "And I'll be coming with you."

The three party members looked at each other. The notion was so blunt and strange, they needed a moment.

"We aren't looking for priests," Aela said carefully.

Leliana scoffed daintily. "I won't be coming with you as a priest. To be honest, I was singing here to earn coin to trade my robes for a simple set of leather armour like yours. I'm a good fighter."

"We saw," Alistair said bluntly. "Aela, are you aware of what she is?"

Aela looked up at him and hesitated. "She's… a woman?"

Alistair shook his head, then nodded, then scoffed. "Yes, she is a woman, alright, fine, that's not the point." He looked at Leliana. "She's a bard."

Leliana shifted uneasily suddenly. She looked upset.

"I suppose I made that a little too obvious. I'm out of practice afterall."

Alistair glared. "An Orlesian assassin. What does Loghain think he's playing at?"

The bard jumped. "No, no, I do not work for Loghain, I work for no one! I want to secure it with you!"

"Do you have any proof?" Morrigan quipped. "The bard detail I can live with, but I trust the Chantry like I trust my mother."

Leliana frowned. "I was a bard, it's true. And I still use my teachings, but I went to the Chantry to be away from that life."

"So why are you so quick to return to it?" Aela asked.

Leliana looked around the tavern as if she didn't appreciate all the ears around them, even though the rest of the tavern's patrons stayed away.

"I was sent a vision by the Maker," she admitted. "And I was told to come with you."

Alistair laughed and Leliana frowned at him. "Are you serious?" he asked.

"Aye, I am."

Aela put up a hand to Alistair. She returned to Leliana. "We have no way of knowing if you're lying or spying or cheating us right now. How do I know you won't sing us into sleep and slit our throats in the night?"

"I would never!" Leliana gasped. "Aela, listen to me, I know it's hard to believe, but the Maker spoke to me, and sent me a dream of a woman. She said I needed to join you. She told me things about you, where you came from and –"

Leliana's words were halted when Aela slapped her hand over her mouth. It startled Alistair and he almost cursed. "I come from nothing, you would be smart to remember that."

The bard nodded quickly. Alistair meanwhile was ready to whirl Aela around and demand explanation. But Aela shoved her way to the innkeeper with Leliana's arm in her grip. The innkeeper didn't want to make eye contact at first while Aela hissed at Leliana.

"We'll talk more about this later. Give me your earnings."

Leliana handed her a pouch. There were less than fifty silvers within. She thrust it into the innkeepers hand and in return, received a ratty set of armour that had been looted off a body.

"Trade what we found," Aela ordered Alistair. "I don't want any trace of Ostagar on us when we leave."

Alistiar grumbled but accepted.

Outside, Aela escorted Leliana to the back. She threw the armour into her hands and crossed her arms. She glared. "This 'vision' the Maker sent you, I don't like it. He hasn't really been there for me, if you understand my meaning. Tell me about this woman."

Leliana licked her lips, her back pressed against the back of the tavern. "Her gown looked like it had been made of stardust…" she began. The way she spoke made Aela calm quickly. "… her hair was blonde like the sun and her skin beautiful and bronze, eyes brown like the sweetest chocolate. She told me that you had been torn from your home to face the darkspawn and you needed help. So I want to help."

Aela's eyes twitched. She was hoping the woman in Leliana's dream was the same as the one that had met her in the Joining, but that woman was wearing a cloak and had brown hair and blue eyes. She sighed angrily.

"If you are to join me, there are conditions."

"Anything!"

"Firstly, make no mention of who I am beyond my first name. To others, I am a mere commoner and I would keep it that way. Secondly, no preaching. I don't think I can handle it."

"I understand… you have lost so much."

"Thirdly," Aela piped up emotionally, "no pity. I can't handle that, either."

"You can't keep your grief contained, Aela."

"That is not for you to decide. Get dressed."

Aela left Leliana as much privacy as she could and waited with Alistair, Duckling, and Morrigan out front. When Leliana emerged wearing the armour she had bought, it looked like it would do no good in protecting her. She gripped her Chantry robes in her fist and nodded before slipping back into the tavern. Morrigan looked into the distance.

"I don't like her," she said in a huff. Aela chuckled and Alistair balked at her.

"You see a Qunari slaughterer in a cage and like him, fine. But when a nice lady comes around and saves us from bounty hunter drunkard guards, you're not impressed."

"She thinks the Chantry's sun shines out of her backside and the Maker sends her postcards in her sleep. And people think I'm the crazy one."

Aela didn't say anything. She only accepted Leliana because of the tavern fight, but her knowing her past made her very upset. So long as she kept her mouth shut, though, she would bear it. Prioritize, she told herself.

Leliana returned from the tavern without her gown and with a very slapdash-looking bow in her hand. The bushel of arrows she had looked brittle and crusted. Used. But she glowed with excitement as she joined the four of them. Duckling liked her instantly and licked her fingers when she got close. Aela giggled at the sight of affection.

But she was not convinced in their strength. Morrigan had dark magic and Aela and Leliana were quick on their feet. Alistair was good with a shield and being loud. They still needed something more.

The next thing the party knew, they were walking into Lothering's Chantry. They did not like what they found. Terrified parents and starving children shot looks at them nervously as Aela looked for the Revered Mother. When she found her, she was sitting in a chair, absolutely exhausted. She looked up at Aela as she approached and gave a small smile.

"Ah, I heard you were coming," she said tiredly. "I hear the tavern almost collapsed."

"No, Mother," Leliana laughed. The Mother smiled at her and bowed her head.

"Good to see you're taking care of yourself. I'm glad you are leaving while you have the ambition. Now then, what can I do for you?"

Aela didn't say as she dropped a bag of coin into the Mother's lap. "A donation for the visitors here."

The Mother beamed at her, grateful. But Aela wasn't done.

"I need something, though."

The Mother frowned slightly. "I am afraid I have nothing to offer in return… a blessing maybe, but no food, no water…"

"I just need a key."

The Mother blinked. Aela kept her face neutral.

"A key to open…?"

"There is an executioner's cage on the outskirts of town with a prisoner within. I want to take him on my quest."

Alistair huffed again while Leliana gave him a look that didn't quite show annoyance. Morrigan smiled widely. The Mother was not impressed.

"No, that is too much to ask."

"You aren't using him," Aela replied. The Mother fumed gracefully.

"He is not an object I am simply not using! He is a murderer, a sinner, and he must pay for his crimes."

If there was one thing Eleanor taught Aela, it was patience. She got on one knee.

"Please, Mother," Aela murmured. "I have this great weight on me and I need strength to carry it. We are all outcasts – none of us have a place or a home – and that will apply to all of Ferelden if we can't stop the Blight."

The Mother straightened.

"Hush that word in this hall," the Mother said gently. "It is almost as bad as a curse word. But… are you sure?"

"I have seen him," she said. "And he is coming. Please… what good can a soldier do if he is locked up in a cage?"

There was a moment before the Mother dropped her soldiers and looked to the ceiling as if it had advice to give her. She pulled the key from a chain around her neck and tossed it to her.

"Fine. If you can bring him to his salvation, then do it out of Lothering. Safe journey, Maker preserve you all."

There was no anger in her voice, but Aela gave her another pouch of coin – the last of her money – and left. The rest followed, some impressed, and Alistair biting his tongue. Aela marched to the cage on the outskirts of town and went to the cage. Sten stood, looking over the rolling hills and keeping his hands behind his back. When the Grey Warden appeared, he gave her a stoic stare.

"You return," he said.

"Obviously," Alistair muttered. Leliana hushed him.

"Okay, what if I told you I had the key to your cage and I would let you out if you would join me?" Aela asked with little breath.

"I will not answer, as you do not have the key."

"Yes, but what if? You could be free and fight your way back to honour, and if you help me get to where Alistair and I need to go, then I would find the funds to send you home."

The Qunari thought for a moment. "A bold promise. One you most likely could not keep."

"Just. Answer. Me."

There was a tense silence full of the distant sound of scared talking and window shutters clattering against shacks.

"A life is better than death," Sten finally said. So Aela revealed the key and shoved it into the keyhole. Alistair leapt forward and grabbed her hand.

"No, stop!" he hissed. "This thing could kill us when we open the door."

Aela was sweating and she looked at Alistair desperately. "You can't feel that?" she breathed. "We need to get out now, and he needs to come!"

She wrenched free of Alistair and she popped the lock. She pulled the lock out and Alistair slammed the door shut. Sten looked intrigued. Aela turned to him and was visibly terrified.

"Can you not feel that?!" she asked hysterically.

Alistair almost called her crazy before he felt the cold in his heart, the weakness in his knees. He was the one who wrenched the cage open.

"Get out," he growled as he looked to the trees. Aela felt it too, but so much more powerful. The Chantry bell began to ring, and people began to scream. Aela made a move to run back to the people before Alistair seized her. "Run!"

"No, they need us!"

"I said RUN!"

He hauled Aela forward and forced her to run. Sten kept up and Leliana followed while Morrigan stayed ahead with her expert footwork. And they heard Lothering fall even as they finally slowed, exhausted, collapsing onto the ground under bushes and roots. Aela meanwhile walked onward to the sound of a river and fell next to it. They were north now, already past the road to Redcliffe and on their way to the Frostback Mountains.

But Aela was more worried about herself. She was on her knees, her fists on the gravel next to the rushing water. Sobs tore out of her body, emotions rushing over her.

"Why?" she spat through gritted teeth. Her family's faces flowed into her head like a tidal wave. Orianna holding onto little Oren, eyes staring at nothing, neck slashed open. Bryce trying to get up from the floor like a dying animal, his stomach split. Her mother's face as she realized this was a final goodbye to her child. Aela grabbed onto her white hair and wrenched on it. The pain made her feel better, so she pulled harder. She screamed into her fist and bit her knuckle until it bled. She cried so hard she made no sound and curled up into a ball. She wrapped her arms around herself.

Singing filled the air slowly, distracting her barely with a soft, echoing lullaby. She didn't understand the language, but her body tingled and her back relaxed. She melted into the river bank as Leliana's voice from the trees infected her, warmed her. The bard peered from the trees cautiously, singing at her. Aela wanted to fight it, knew it would be smart to not trust her, but she found herself letting her eyes fall heavy and close.

When she slept, the song never stopped. She sat in the Fade and listened, a strange false peace surrounding her like a blanket that was not quite warm enough, armour that wasn't quite thick enough, or an army that wasn't quite together.

* * *

_It took four sets of hands to pry open the doors to the throne room. Alistair, Oghren, Sten, and Teagan hauled open one of the doors and everybody helped everyone into the room. Aela wiped her bloody nose again and ignored the migraine bashing her head. But eerily enough, the huge room was quiet, save for the echoes outside. _

_The week before, Alistair had been sworn into rule in that very room in a rushed, informal ceremony, surrounded by the Grey Warden party, nobles, and the king's guard. Documents were signed, blessings were given, and oaths were sworn here. Anora gracefully, yet disdainfully, gave him her blessing and left Denerim to live in Amaranthine. The rightful king of Ferelden made a half-rate speech to nervous soldiers and hungry people, and his first order to his guards was to stay outside and fight. So the castle was empty and vulnerable. _

_But stone can be rebuilt and thrones can be resmithed, and people cannot. They slowed their pace and tried to find their way in the dark. The fires outside shone through the stained glass windows upon the worn throne. Alistair stopped and the party instantly got to work preparing themselves. _

_"We must get to Fort Drakon!" Riordan said. "But there are a lot of darkspawn ahead. Teagan, Eamon, you will escort me there ahead of time while Aela and the others fight through the horde with the treaty holders. I need the archdemon to focus on you, not me."_

_"Of course," Alistair said. Teagan and Eamon looked at each other and looked to Riordan. Riordan nodded and shook Alistair's hand._

_"Let's hope this is goodbye," Riordan said with a painful smile, "as horrible as that sounds."_

_"No, I hope you get the glory," Alistair replied. "You are making an ultimate sacrifice."_

_"Just keep my country safe," Riordan said with a wink. He turned to Aela. He shook her hand as well, but pulled her in for a hug. _

_"If this doesn't work," Riordan whispered quickly, "it has to be you."_

_"I know," she agreed. "I know."_

_"It can't be him."_

_"I would never let him do that."_

_"Do it for your family."_

_"I'd do it for the world."_

_Riordan pulled back and bowed. "It's been an honour. Andraste and Maker bless you."_

_He turned away and walked from the party while Aela repeated his words in her head. Maker and Andraste, Andraste and Maker. Strange things had happened since her Joining, strange and elusive and impossible things. Things that made the name of the Maker and his burning wife seem realer to her. So when anyone told her they should bless her, she felt a small heart-flutter. She knew if she needed divine intervention, it would be tonight. _

_Wynne drank more lyrium. Oghren bounced from foot to foot, making himself angry. Sten cleaned his sword without expression. Leliana rearranged the arrows in her bushel, counting the different magical arrows Morrigan and Wynne had both made while uttering a prayer to the Maker. Zevran soaked both his daggers in poison and whipped them around in his grip to dry them. Alistair tightened Duncan's shield around his forearm and repositioned Duncan's sword in his hip. Duckling simply growled at the windows as if the archdemon was outside. _

_Aela did nothing special to prepare herself. She sat on the steps to the throne and rested the Cousland sword in her lap. Biter glinted in the orange light. Around the pommel were the laces from her last gown tied around it, a constant reminder of being torn from her family. She knew they had been avenged and Howe's body lie somewhere unbecoming, but tonight was going to make them proud. Aela ran her fingers down the laces and sent them a thought._

_Suddenly, Alistair was in front of her on one knee. He grabbed her hand from the sword and held it in his, the other cupping her cheek. Aela was startled at first, but calmed._

_"We only have a minute," he said urgently, "But Aela… Aela Cousland of Highever… you were born with noble blood and noble heart. I don't know who or what brought us together… but I'm so terrified it's going to tear us apart."_

_"Hush, my love," Aela whispered. "Nothing could tear us apart."_

_"In a moment, we are going out there and we may not come back," he choked. "I want to do something before that happens."_

_"We don't have time, the archdemon –" Aela began, but Alistair kissed her quickly to silence her. His mouth was still on hers when he spoke against her lips. _

_"Marry me, Aela," he whispered. Aela froze. Her stomach lurched and she gripped onto him. "I know we haven't known each other long, but we have been through the deepest hell and highest heaven and I don't want one of us to leave the field without the other without at least this."_

_Aela had no time to think. "Leliana!" she called. _

_The bard ran over. Aela had no time to explain, she simply said, "Marry us, my friend."_

_At first, Leliana did not understand. But then she bit her lip and tried to scramble for words. "I-I don't know… I have wed people in the past, but I don't think I can –"_

_"Please," Alistair begged. _

_"I need rope, a ring, a witness…"_

_Aela unwrapped the laces from her sword and gave them to Leliana. "We don't need a ring, and we have each other to witness. Do it."_

_Leliana took the laces and the rest of the party gathered. "I'll skip the prayers and whatnot, then. Maker and Andraste, wedded Holy pair of the sky, earth, and flame, I ask your blessing for this union under the witness of our beloved friends in arms."_

_Wynne put her hand to her heart in surprise once she realized what was happening, and even Sten wrinkled his brow. Leliana tied Alistair's wrist quickly. _

_"Alistair Theirin, King of Ferelden, do you swear unto the Maker to love, cherish, and remain faithful to your bride?"_

_"I do," Alistair said. Leliana tied Aela's wrist._

_"Aela Cousland, Teryna of Highever and Amaranthine, do you swear unto Andraste to love, cherish, and remain faithful to your groom?"_

_"Without question."_

_Leliana hastily wrapped the rest of the cord around their hands, tying them together, and she placed her hands over the pair. _

_"In the name of the Maker and Andraste, you are wed on this day. Normally, we would require a ring to symbolize union…"_

_"Give me your dagger," Alistair said to Aela. Aela had no time to ask questions. He grabbed Aela's free hand with his and made her rest the blade on his cheek. Aela hesitated. Alistair dragged the blade across his cheek enough to make him bleed, and when she pulled back, he had a matching cut to mimic her scar. _

_They kissed quickly to finalize it, had enough time to look at each other, and then Leliana tore the laces from their wrists. Aela returned them to her pommel and the party's happiness was put to the side. Aela and Alistair led the way to the other doors and pressed themselves against it. _

_"I love you, Aela Theirin," Alistair whispered to her._

_"More than the world."_

_"One…" Alistair and the rest of the party readied themselves._

_"Two…" Aela did not take her eyes from Alistair's._

_"Three!"_

_Aela and Alistair, wedded King and Queen of Ferelden, wrenched open the doors and rushed into hell._


	6. Proving with her Voice

_Holy moly. This is a large chappie to make up for the wait. Shout out to If I Can Be for following this tale. Very special tanks to Kris, fifespice, and YunikuRebekit for kind reviews, and Alex for stealing my computer to read it. Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter 6: Proving with her Voice**

Aela awoke with a start. The first thing she did was touch her throat. When she realized she was fine, she sat up and looked around. She was surprised to see she was no longer on the river bank, but on a tattered blanket among the rest of her party. Sten was on his side facing the other direction, Alistair was on his side with his hand resting on his sword, and Morrigan faced the sky with an arm over her eyes. Duckling was absolutely crude, laying on his back with his legs spread in every direction, tongue lolling.

Leliana was next to her staring at the embers smouldering in a fire.

"Sten taught us a way to hide the smoke," she said quietly, "so I thought a fire would be safe."

Aela scratched the back of her head and pursed her lips. Her eyes felt swollen, but she was relaxed. "I slept too well," she noted.

"I knew you were upset… I wasn't sure how well you'd sleep and well… you've already done a lot for me so I wanted to give back."

At first, Aela wanted to dissuade Leliana from doing that. She didn't like being able to be sung to sleep and left vulnerable. But the idea intrigued her.

"You need to teach me how to do that," she said. Leliana laughed.

"The rest of you were out like a candle," she giggled. "Sten fell like a log and Alistair fell over like towels stacked too high. Morrigan was a bit tricky, but she dozed off near the end."

Aela smiled. "And Duckling?"

"He was already asleep!"

The two of them laughed loudly, and Alistair stirred. He grumbled and opened his eyes. "Laughter isn't what I thought I'd wake up to…"

"I think that's a good thing," Leliana said. Soon, Sten, Morrigan, and Duckling were awake and on their sore feet. They looked Aela, who pulled out the treaties.

"We're already near the western mountains, so we'll settle the Orzammar treaty first."

"Why go all the way there instead of turn around to Redcliffe?" Leliana asked.

"Because I don't want surface people seeing me for a while. I think time in Orzammar would help some people – bad people – forget about Alistair and me."

Leliana gave an understanding nod.

"I don't think they could easily forget if Loghain is still as good with persuading and convincing people as he was in Maric's rule," Alistair countered. "But you're right. It makes sense."

So it was settled. As they walked, Leliana caught up with Aela and asked her about hiding in Orzammar.

"I don't want Howe knowing I didn't burn," Aela replied quietly. "It's simpler to let him think Highever is his."

"But you'll never get it back if you pretend to be dead forever," Leliana said.

"I never said forever."

"The Maker teaches us that -"

Aela gave Leliana a look. "No preaching. I said I didn't like that. Arl Rendon Howe slaughtered my family in cold blood, and I will rip him apart, limb from limb, face from skull, before I go back into the Fade. Your Maker can stay out of that, just as he did when my family burned."

They continued on the northern road towards the mountains. For two days they hiked and faced little to no one save for travelling traders and common folk. When they did see someone approach, they stepped off the road into the cover of trees and bushes.

After those two days, they came to a cross-road. Aela paused and looked down the road and glared. It felt sinister and cold, evil. It was not on the way to Orzammar, but it made her wonder. It did not look like an intentional path, but maybe a horse trail. She did not like the feeling it gave her and was forced to move on, thinking it was mere superstition.

When they finally passed through the mountains and made it into the small village outside the dwarven fortress, the party took advantage of the kiosks. It was then they knew something was very wrong.

"I'm so happy to see you," one shopkeeper said. "No one has come from Orzammar to trade in weeks. The sodding Assembly won't let anyone in or out."

"Why?" Aela asked.

"King Aeducan passed to the stone a month ago and the Assembly is locked between blood and oath when it comes to the successor."

Aela didn't like the thought and left. Leliana met her with a piece of parchment in her hand. She pulled her aside.

"Aela, look at this…"

She opened the folded parchment and handed it to her. It was a 'missing' poster of sorts, and upon it was a bad sketch of someone terribly familiar. Under it were the words: 'Maelana Cousland'.

It was Aela.

She almost screamed as she looked at the sketch of herself, her hair impossibly long and draped over a gentle and clear face. She was almost unrecognizable now, and it looked like Morrigan had plucked it off a stand to hide it from prying eyes.

"Someone thinks you're alive... it's you," she said. Aela's mouth was dry. She folded the parchment and put it under her armour.

"Not anymore," she replied stiffly. "Who had this?"

"A vendor said someone from Highever handed these out in attempt to thwart Art Rendon Howe's attempt at securing those lands. The shopkeeper said he's convinced you did not perish in the fire. He has since gone south."

"Who?" she immediately asked.

"He didn't get a name. He said he was a knight under your house."

"Ser Gilmore!" Aela gasped. Leliana raised an eyebrow. Aela's heart was racing, so she tried to contain herself. "Well, there are many knights that served my family."

She looked at the parchment for a while, running her dirty thumb over the cheap ink press of her face. The sketch was a copy of her on her eighteenth birthday, just two moons ago. Her face was delicate and graceful. She had a small smile on her lips and her hair spilled down her back like a silver waterfall. Of course, there were no colours accompanying the sketch, but Aela loved the drawing. Now, it worried her.

She nodded and gave Leliana look as she shoved the parchment under her armour. "Keep this to yourself," she said. Leliana bowed her head and they continued to the doors to Orzammar. They took caution when they found Loghain's guards arguing with the gatekeeper.

"King Loghain has demanded the dwarves' allegiance!" the guard barked.

The gatekeeper yawned. "And my answer remains the same. No."

"But King Loghain –"

"Is that what they're calling him now?" Alistair interrupted. "Funny, last I checked, King Cailan's body was still warm."

The guard's face went bright red. "You!" he hissed. "You are the Grey Wardens Loghain has a bounty for!"

"Yes, we know, thank you," Aela said with a wave. She turned to the gatekeeper and gave him the treaty papers. "We require entrance to speak with the Assembly."

"TREASON!" the guard bellowed.

"Actually, these are papers, and you are an idiot," Aela muttered. Alistair laughed and Morrigan smiled. The guard put his hand to his sword.

Suddenly, as if she could tell what his next move was, Aela was first and she unsheathed her dagger from her back and slashed the guard across the cheek. He stumbled back and Aela glared at him. The soldier put his fingers to his bleeding cheek. Leliana scoffed.

"I see a pattern forming," she said with a laugh. "Are you planning to mark all your enemies with that?"

"I guess I am."

The soldier's voice reached higher octaves as he became more hysterical. "You will PAY for this!"

"Sten," Aela sneered, "tear his arms off?"

The Qunari took one step before the soldiers scrambled back.

"I am not in the mood for this, coward," Aela breathed. "There are three of you and six of us, so I suggest you run to Loghain with a message instead of not at all."

The soldier's head almost popped off from his anger, but he bowed his head and spat through gritted teeth. "What would you have me say?" he asked, trembling with rage.

"Just show him your face," was the reply. "Another of your men bears the same mark, and so will anyone I choose to mark. Soon, that mark will remind everyone of my name, my cause, my quest. I am Aela of the Grey Wardens. Remember that."

The soldier left the platform to the door with a swish of his over-embellished cape. Alistair clasped his hand over Aela's arm and gave her a wink. "You're getting your scary voice."

"Boo."

Aela sheathed Ripper. She gave that name to Duncan's dagger. Fitting, she thought. Duncan ripped her from her old life and then this new life ripped Duncan away in turn. That, and it was good at ripping open cheeks for Aela's own crazed amusement. She turned to the gatekeeper again.

"Thanks for getting that rotten surface-shithead off my doorstep, friend," he said. Aela was still not used to harsher language, but she nodded. "Alright. I'll let you in. But be warned, you probably won't find what you need."

The gatekeeper was right. The Assembly was under lockdown, and with no king to supply Aela an army, she was left to pace through the fortress. Dust Town was first. It was obvious that this was the slum of Orzammar, and Aela had a hard time accepting it. She hated seeing people like this…

The dwarves within Dust Town all had disgusting and misshapen brands upon their cheeks. Aela flinched and thought of her own cheek, and thankfully that had healed with Flemeth's help. These unfortunate dwarves obviously let these brands get infected, and some huddled in corners covering their faces, freshly marked and freshly stripped of their titles – their caste – and all their rights to live with dignity.

Anyone not cowering in fear of the party stood confrontationally towards them. It was then Aela and the gang decided it was time to leave.

The Commons offered little help, too. They heard gossip around town, and soon it was known that King Aeducan's son, Prince Bhelen, was meant to be successor, as it was custom on the surface. But there was word that King Aeducan's right hand, Lord Harrowmont, was also in consideration due to Aeducan's wishes. It was all very confusing and frustrating for the party, who needed an army, and they needed it now.

Aela finished up with a lyrium-laced shopkeeper and pocketed her health poultices. She only had three now, and that worried her, since she had five soldiers under her care. She stepped back and faced her party. Alistair was fanning himself with his hand, the heat from the magma below stifling everyone, it seemed.

"We should try the Diamond Quarter," he panted. "We can get answers from the nobles themselves better than the casteless and the insane."

Aela tried to give him a look to quiet him as the jittery shopkeeper was right behind her, mumbling about sandwiches and nightmares. "Come on," she said quietly. Her spirits were down, and she hated the feeling of being trapped in. She had this feel that the ceiling would cave in from above, and she gulped.

They missed the doorway to Diamond Quarter, however.

"I think… we may have just gotten lost," Leliana quipped. Morrigan scoffed at her.

"Tis only a detour," Morrigan sighed, although annoyed with her sore feet and the scorching air. "Truly, if we were in danger, we'd turn around and walk five minutes back into the hustle bustle."

"It's too hot back there," Alistair complained. Aela agreed. She was sweating uncomfortably under her leathers and the fur she pilfered off an unfortunate frozen soldier on their way to Frostback Mountain. She wiped her brow with the back of her hand and blinked away her dizziness.

The turned a corner and saw a group of dwarven soldiers talking to each other, blocking the rest of the road. "Oi, hold!" one bellowed formally. The party stopped. "No one is going into the Deep Roads! Not until the Assembly has been sorted."

Aela wrinkled her nose and blinked. The Deep Roads. She wasn't entirely familiar with them.

"Would there be any other shops beyond you by any chance?" she asked innocently. She wanted more health poultices.

One of the guards snorted. "If there is one, he's a sodding fool. Lady, the Deep Roads is where your darkspawn, well… spawn. The older thaigs – other household names and cities – have all fallen to their filth. No one goes there without permission or a death wish."

The party looked at each other. Then Aela sighed. "We just need to talk to a king. A queen. Someone wearing a crown."

She received another snort. "You'd have better luck breaking Orzammar's roof!" he laughed. "Until Harrowmont and Bhelen settle this stupid spat of theirs, no one is talking to a king. Because we don't have one. Wanna be useful? Go help them pick! And pray they don't send you here."

Soon enough, they were entering the Diamond Quarter. Aela had had enough of waiting for answers. She didn't want to spend another night at Tapsters Tavern doing nothing. She itched for advancement. That, and the open air. The sooner she was done, the better.

They trudged into the Diamond Quarter, Aela leading the way, and Alistair held the rear. Leliana was in front of him when he pulled her back.

"Leliana, you must be a good judge of character," he whispered. Leliana raised an eyebrow. "Does Aela seem a bit... different to you?"

"Not all of us come out of a can, Alistair. We are all different."

Alistair frowned. "No, I mean... look at her. We get into the Diamond Quarter and she just... has this way of carrying herself suddenly. Like, look at how straight her back is and how formal she sounds when she asks who to see."

"She's only trying to play on their level. It's a trick we bards use," Leliana said. "Even I can make myself look however I want. Princess, prostitute, whatever I need to do."

Alistair chuckled. "I find that hard to believe."

"Oi, whatchu fink is 'ard to believe, eh?" Leliana slurred loudly, slouching her shoulders and wrinkling her nostril in a way that made her look sickly. "I ain't pre'y enough fer yah?"

His eyes widened and Sten even looked over his shoulder. Morrigan snorted as Alistair nodded in defeat with a sportsmanlike laugh. Leliana returned to her normal gentle self.

"The idea is to fool people into thinking you're something when you're really nothing. Aela is just a woman who knows how to walk into a room and make people notice."

He looked at Aela's legs then and looked away quickly. Modesty, he reminded himself. Aela was pointed in the direction of Lord Harrowmont's estate, surely from a biased noble, and she ascended the steps into the house, leaving Duckling outside with Sten, who had been growing fond of the beast as much as a Qunari could. Alistair, Morrigan, Leliana, and Aela stood in the foyer, where Harrowmont's butler stood, eyes squinted.

"The lord is not taking visitors," the butler squeaked. "Please exit from where you entered."

Behind him, Harrowmont stood, looking into a fire. Aela bit her lip. "We need someone to honour our treaty. We are the Grey Wardens of Ferelden, we would have your promise."

Harrowmont turned his body slightly to glance at Aela through grey eyelashes. "Grey Wardens…" he murmured. "So… it is true. Leave us."

The butler bowed and left the room. Harrowmont faced Aela fully and looked up at her.

"Ah. A man, three women… and where is Duncan?"

Alistair felt as if his stomach had been punched. He shifted his weight and he felt a hand enter his to hold it. Gentle fingers entwined with his coarse hand. Aela gave his hand a squeeze, something for him to focus on.

"Duncan fell at the battle of Ostagar. Maker preserve him," she said.

Lord Harrowmont nodded and pursed his lips beneath his braided beard. "I would have hoped to see him before he went into the Deep Roads, like his fellow senior Wardens. The King Aeducan and he conversed in private about allying against a possible Blight, but he was very ill, and very weak. The king passed a week later. You were there, my boy."

Alistair swallowed. "Yes. And we need that possibility solidified."

He was squeezing Aela's hand so hard, she winced. He needed to be strong. But Harrowmont sighed. "If I were king, then I could grant you all you desire. But until I am, that will not happen."

"How can we help?" Alistair asked.

Harrowmont looked at Alistair and the party with a moment of thought and stepped closer. "You look like an exceptional set of fighters… if you were to go to the Proving Grounds and fight in my honour, and if the ancestors favoured it, then the Assembly would notice. Grey Wardens are notable people."

"Why should we fight in your honour?" Aela asked bravely. Her hand was crushed again.

"A fair question… Prince Bhelen is a good man, albeit radical and spontaneous. His… reforms include opening up trade with the surface world and such, but that is against all the ancestors wish. Tradition is how we live. It's how we survive."

Aela nodded. "I am in no place to change tradition. Fine, we will go fight in your honour."

"While you're at it, look for Baizyl and Gwiddon. They said they would fight in my honour, and I have heard no word from them."

They left the estate and Morrigan smiled at Aela. "Tis a brisk decision to side with one man without knowing the other."

"We have no time to bargain and weigh our options. Harrowmont will give us an army, and that's all I care about."

They went to the Proving Grounds and were immediately burdened with the feeling of scrutiny. Glares and snorts and cackles sounded around them from every dark corner from dwarves hungry for blood. Aela was too hot, too stifled to care. Leliana was the one who found the Proving Master, who found Gwiddon and Baizyl, and Leliana provided the information to Aela.

"Gwiddon simply needs some honeyed words, but Baizyl is in a very harsh situation," Leliana whispered the Aela, who rubbed her hand over her sweaty eyes. "He says he has been blackmailed into dropping from the Proving. Love letters from him to a married woman are in another fighter's hands. Myaja, that fighter in the back corner, has the key. If we were to get it –"

"We have no time," Aela interrupted. "Letters to a married woman or no, we need to get this treaty honoured."

She wavered and Alistair weakly steadied her. "It's hot. Too hot. Maker's breath, how do you guys stand the heat of this place?"

"I am hiding my emotions," Sten said. Leliana smiled a little.

"Orlais is hot, and I am used to it. Morrigan probably can't feel the heat because if she did, her magic would harm her. You, Duckling, and Aela are Fereldans, unaccustomed to this climate."

Aela waved a hand and stepped past Leliana. "Stay there," she said. She met the Proving Master.

"We wish to fight for Harrowmont," she said bluntly before her party could hear.

"Ah, so Harrowmont finally has a fighter, eh? Just you then?"

"I have five of us, and my mabari."

The Proving Master shook his head. "One, or none. This is a dwarven tradition, so only one human allowed. No others, and no mutts."

Aela, too delirious and impatient to argue, nodded. "Then let's go."

"The fight's been late," he said, rubbing his hands together. "Seweryn!" he barked to a dwarven warrior tightening his shield around his arm. "Looks like there's gonna be a fight after all! You're up against…"

"Aela, my name is Aela."

Alistair almost leapt out of his skin and shoved his way to Aela. "Wait!" he sneered. He seized Aela, who jumped and frowned. "You're fighting? Alone?!"

"I'm going in there to secure our treaties," she said simply. "I'll be fine."

"You won't! You have only had a sword in hand for a fortnight, less even! These dwarves are skilled fighters, years under their belts."

"I will not subject anyone else to my decisions," she replied as the Proving Master opened the gate for her.

"You are being foolish," Morrigan hissed. "You are not invincible, and my own mother can't save you this time."

"You make decisions as if you were an imekari. A child," Sten grumbled.

"I seek honour and safety for my people, Sten," Aela replied. "Surely, a Qunari man would understand."

Alistair reached for her hand and held it. "This is ludicrous! You're too warm, too confused to see reason!"

"Let me go, Alistair."

She wrenched her arm free as the Proving Master shuffled her away into the first gates. The rest of her party flapped about and argued before pressing themselves against the gate. Aela was already in the arena in front of Seweryn, listening to the Proving Master.

"The first fighter to disarm the other wins the round, death is optional. Ancestors favour the rightful heir!"

"I'm going to tear you apart," Seweryn laughed. Aela pulled Biter and Ripper from their sheathes and squeezed. She tangled her fingers in the laces around Biter's pommel and glared. Time seemed to pause for a moment, the heat of the crowded room bearing down on her like a noose.

The next thing she knew, Seweryn swung his sword at her. She ripped herself out of the way, the blade barely grazing her breast and causing no damage. She lost her balance and fell back, but she rolled back onto her feet before he could get another swing at her.

But the moment she made it back onto her feet, Seweryn bashed his shield into her. The upper rim of the large shield cracked her nose. She staggered back, but did not fall. Instead, she took the hit and pushed back, blood dripping from her face. She threw her whole body weight into him and waited the split-second it took for him to shove back before she leapt out of the way. Seweryn lurched forward and fell to a knee, leaving Aela to the advantage of slashing at him with Ripper. She clipped the back of his thigh.

But the heat was stifling. She almost vomited from all the movement. She spat blood out of her mouth and wiped her nose. Her scar throbbed under the pressure around her.

"His sword!" Alistiar cried from the gate. "Get his sword!"

Seweryn twisted back to his feet, shrugging off the leg wound. Their swords connected, and she sent Ripper crashing into his shield. She heard her mother's voice in her head about stealth and wit in combat. She tried to remember everything as Seweryn hacked his sword against hers.

Aela pulled away and dodged another swing, bending back so Seweryn's reach missed her face. He growled and jumped for her, and she stepped out of the way. Time seemed to slow as Seweryn flew through the air. Aela lunged with Biter and Ripper together, two blades, and caught Seweryn's blade between them. Aela spun around and twisted the sword out of Seweryn's grip, hurling the weapon to the edge of the arena.

She thrust her sword towards her opponent's face and caught her breath while he froze. The crowd had mixed sounds of cheers and disgust as Seweryn made it to his feet and stormed off the sand. Aela stumbled towards the gate, but was not allowed back in.

Leliana reached through the bars and held her bleeding face. "That was brilliant," she said breathlessly.

"That was close," Alistair countered. "Proving Master, let her in!"

"The winner stays in the arena for her next opponent!"

Alistair grunted in frustration. Sten thrust a canteen through the bars. "Drink."

Aela took the water and gagged down the stale and vile contents before giving back the empty container. "Sten, please go get more. Leliana, go sneak around and find out who is next. Morrigan, if you can find any medicine, please find it."

The party members all left to their charges while Alistair stared at Aela.

"Do you realize the mistake you could be making?" he asked, reaching through the bars to wipe her face. "You can die out there."

"I have lost so much, Alistair," Aela murmured. "You don't know how much I've lost. This makes me feel like I'm helping."

"Just being a Grey Warden helps. Whatever you have been through is no reason to act without thought!"

"You don't understand. And that's why you don't know me, and won't know me. Because you will never understand the things I do to others is so I don't do it to myself."

She didn't wait for Leliana to come back to tell her about her next opponent. Instead, she left the gate with a lump in her throat and a throbbing face. But when she saw two fighters instead of one, her spirits shifted.

Myaja and Lucjan, the Proving Master announced, were a deadly fighting pair. One never fought without the other and both had different skill sets. Myaja banged her sword against her shield and Lucjan ran his pair of blades together. The sound of banging and scraping made Aela's knees go weak.

Darkspawn were easy to kill once you killed a few of them, but these were strategists. They had a clear eye and no injuries like Aela. "You alright there, little girl?" Myaja cackled. "You look a little squeamish."

Aela didn't say anything, but gave her one of those smiles her father disapproved of if she did something negative. It hid the fear she felt, the uncertainty. This was a bad idea. But when Lucjan swung for one side and Myaja the other, Aela's arms moved faster than she thought. Biter blocked Myaja and Ripper blocked Lucjan. Arms outstretched, Aela twirled to escape the pressure.

She spat blood and faced them again. Myaja shrugged. "Good move. Shit footwork, though."

"She ain't no dancer," Lucjan growled. "And she won't be when we're done."

Myaja laughed and suddenly, hurled her shield at Aela's chest. It spun as a heavy red steel disc and slammed into Aela's stomach. She felt back and felt something tear, although she did not know what, and rolled twice on the sand. Ripper flew from her grip, and the crowd cheered.

"Aela!" Leliana cried. "Get up!"

Aela tried to, but the slightest pressure on her belly made her cry out. Something ruptured. The crowd cheered with every cry she made.

"She's got one blade left yet!" Myaja cackled. "Lucjan, show her how to wield two blades."

Aela made it to her hands and knees, and Alistair banged against the gate. "Let me in!" he yelled. Leliana pulled him back. "She's going to get herself killed!"

Legs shaking and abdomen throbbing, Aela raised Biter just in time to block Lucjan. Lucjan stumbled back from the sudden contact, and Aela lunged forward, screaming in pain, burying Biter into Lucjan's gut. His air left his lungs in one breath and his blades fell from his limp fingers. He fell to his knees as Aela heaved Biter back and fell to her own knees, her belly stiffening.

"LUCJAN!" Myaja screamed. "You bitch!" She sprinted to Aela and smashed the pommel of her sword over her face. She saw stars and fell into the sand, her face bleeding numbly into the dirt. Myaja kicked her over and Aela coughed weakly. Blood poured out of her mouth, not from an external wound, but one very internal. She couldn't breathe.

Myaja straddled her and raised her blade. She cracked the pommel over Aela's head again.

"AELA!" Alistair screamed. Her fingers uncurled around Biter's handle, but the fight continued.

"Let go of your fucking sword, you whore," Myaja sneered. The laces from her gown held Biter in her hand. She shook her head in defiance, choking on the fluid entering her mouth.

"LET GO!"

"No…"

"LET GO!"

"Kiss… my… ass."

Aela smiled with red teeth before she grabbed Myaja's arm. She sank her teeth into Myaja's fighting wrist and held on. Myaja howled as Aela's teeth sank into the flesh between Myaja's glove and elbow guard. The sound of a blade hitting the ground sounded like angels as Myaja jumped back, empty-handed. Aela had won.

Myaja hauled Lucjan off the sand to the healer while Aela crawled to the gates. Alistair was reaching through the bars, Morrigan covering her mouth and Leliana's brow tense. Sten wasn't watching anymore and Duckling pawed frantically at the gate's hinges. Aela grabbed Alistair's hands and he dragged her up against the gate. Leliana force-fed her a poultice and Alistair pressed a hand to her stomach.

"Something burst. We have to get her out of here."

Aela choked and coughed another large quantity of blood onto the gate. "How many more?"

"Half way there. You have a Silent Sister next. Aim for her face. Then you have… more."

"Andraste be praised."

Alistair held onto Aela's face and gave her a shake. "Don't give up, you hear me? You can't leave me here."

"Yes, don't leave me with Alistair, dear," Morrigan said in response. Aela chuckled and groaned in pain. Aela rested a hand on Duckling's head, the poultice giving her miracle energy. She used the gate to pull herself up and she tied the laces around her wrist to keep Biter close. She left the gate and spat out a mouthful of blood before Hanashan, the Silent Sister, walked into the arena. She bowed to Aela and pulled a massive great sword into her grip.

Aela grabbed Ripper out of the sand and gritted her teeth. There were no words spoken when Hanashan swung.

Immediately, Aela could see she moved slowly, encumbered by the gigantic weapon she carried, so Aela did her best to see each move and avoid every blow. It was far easier to swing at Hanashan instead of Myaja and Lucjan. So when Aela saw an opening, she took it. Hanashan was soon covered in small cuts, but already, the poultice was wearing off. Aela's vision wavered and she fell to one knee, blood suffocating her. Whatever had ruptured, it was infecting her body. She almost vomited, and she looked up at Hanashan, blood overflowing through her teeth.

Hanashan stopped mid-swing, suddenly terrified. Aela blinked as her neck grew wet.

Aela didn't know what else to do, she she breathed deeply and spat all over Hanashan's face. She cringed and flapped one hand about while Aela nicked her other hand. The sword fell and the round was over. Aela realized if Hanashan had her tongue ripped out, the sight of it would make her uneasy. One more to go.

She had no energy to return to the gate. She stayed on one knee and waited for her final opponent. When she saw four enter full of anger and determination, Aela almost threw her swords to the ground in surrender. But she wasn't allowed to. Her entire party screamed at the Proving Master, who did not budge when it came to the rules.

"If you can do something from here, then be my guest. But she accepted a solo fight against whoever wanted a fight," he said bluntly.

"No, you refused her a partner!" Alistair spat. Aela, meanwhile, stumbled to her feet. She wasn't entirely religious, but she caught herself praying when Piotin Aeducan's henchman and right-hand soaked in the applause from the crowd.

Leliana pressed herself into the gate. "She's not going to make this one."

"What do we do?" Morrigan hissed. Alistair looked at her up and down and glared.

"I have an idea."

Aela held her stomach and raised Biter to the posse of dwarven soldiers. She knew this was impossible. She needed a miracle.

"FOR BHELEN!" Piotin roared. His henchman were first, and Aela braced herself. But they stopped running. Instead, they both forced themselves to halt as a creature skittered towards them. It looked like a mouse, and it leapt onto a henchman's face and tore open his lip. He screamed and dropped his sword to swat away the rodent. Aela stared as the other henchman tried to pull it away. The mouse turned away and jumped down the armour of the second henchman.

He squealed and yanked at his heavy chest plate. He dropped his own weapons and the two henchman were forced to exit the arena shamefully.

"You sods," Piotin spat. The mouse meanwhile crawled up Aela's leg. She saw its yellow eyes and immediately knew.

"This was Alistair's idea, wasn't it?"

Morrigan sneezed on her and scurried off. On the sidelines, Leliana opened her arms and her mouth, and sang loudly. It wasn't terribly pleasant, but the song seemed to physically wrap around Aela's arms, forcing them to move. She blocked Piotin's right-hand man and Leliana made her move so fast that it was all a blur. Leliana was ruthless and Aela forced Ripper and Biter into his mouth, killing him instantly.

Piotin screamed and Leliana was spent. Aela shoved the right-hand's body away from her to face Piotin, alone and without aid. The maul he held, a massive great hammer, made a horrifying whoosing sound as it grazed past her face.

Her small blades were no match for one well-aimed blow from the maul, and they were knocked to the side to give Piotin a massive opening. He swung the hammer over and around, smashing it into Aela's gut. She crashed into the side of the arena.

Instead of finishing the round, Piotin grabbed Aela by the hair and dragged her into the middle of the arena.

"This is what happens when you buy your allegiance, Harrowmont! You fail! YOU LOSE!"

Some of the crowd went wild while the rest sat uncomfortably. Aela tried to breathe, but she couldn't. She gritted her teeth against her own sobs.

"Child," a woman whispered in her head. The woman from her Joining entered her mind as time almost stopped. "It's not the end. Close your eyes."

Aela coughed as she was forced to look at her party members.

"My sweet, my lovely angel, you're alright..." the woman whispered.

"Reach, darling," the woman cooed.

Piotin threw Aela head first to the ground. She did not let go of Biter, but she did not entirely hold onto her consciousness.

"It's over, Warden!" Piotin sneered.

"No… it's not," Aela choked.

"Shut it, you fucking idiot," he replied. "Face your death with dignity."

"No."

"You're a fool."

"I'm a Cousland," she spat hoarsely. "Your hammer can't take that away."

"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that."

The woman in her mind giggled beautifully. "Show him, darling. Show him the gift I gave you."

"What gift?" Aela forced as Piotin raised his fists in premature triumph.

"I'll show you."

Aela flipped onto her back to face Piotin as he readied his hammer. It was as if the woman stroked her scarred cheek with invisible fingers before Aela felt something build in her throat. It wasn't blood, it was power. It was song.

Piotin swung his hammer around his head and a sound tore from Aela's throat that wasn't entirely her own. It was a note of many notes, a song of many lyrics, and it ripped from Aela like an explosion of fire. It hurt, but the power infected her.

Piotin fell back and the crowd leaned away.

"That's it. Sing…"

Aela a carried the note from her body until Piotin's hammer slipped from his fingers and he fell to his knees. As soon as the crowd started cheering and the Proving Master raised his hands to end the round, Aela smacked a hand over her mouth. The crowd was quiet, her party amazed and confused, and the Proving Master proclaimed her as the winner in Harrowmont's favour.

Aela's hand shook over her lips as blood erupted through her fingers in a horrific hacking noise. The gates were raised and she vomited onto the sand. Hands were on her, and Sten had her in his arms. The crowd cheered for her as they shoved their way out of the Proving Grounds. Leliana had her hands on her stomach, and she was screaming for help as Aela's breaths became far and few between.

Her vision went dark as the searing heat of Orzammar consumed her. But she liked the suffocation. She liked the burn. And she listened to the woman in her head reassuring her that it was over, that she was safe, that she had a beautiful voice, and that she had won.

* * *

_Aela was high on adrenaline and the excitement of her sudden marriage that she mowed down any darkspawn that faced her. And that number was vast. But she was in no need of her secret weapon yet._

_She cleared her throat and fought back-to-back with her husband, her king, and she was on fire. Blackened blood and spit covered her drakeskin and she loved it. The battle for Ferelden was in her favour. She felt it in her bones, her being, her spirit. Oghren and Sten were bashing a poor Shriek to death and Leliana and Zevran danced through a cluster of Blight Wolves, laughing and crying and cheering and screaming. Aela almost couldn't keep up. _

_"Up ahead, darling," Alistair said angrily._

_"I see him."_

_An Ogre, massive and livid, crashed through the castle's courtyard and roared. Aela readied Biter and Ripper in her hands and Wynne stepped behind her, ready to help. The rest of the party knew that it was best to focus on the smaller creatures. Aela and Alistair fought Ogres together, no matter what, to honour Duncan and Aela's injuries. _

_Aela and Alistair charged together and both glanced at each other with massive smiles. Alistair grabbed Aela's arm and gave out a warcry, making his eyes burst into red light and giving him the extra strength he needed to hurl Aela forward. Aela thrust her feet outward and her feet smashed into the Ogre's face. _

_Alistair let go and Aela reached out mid-flight. She grabbed one of the Ogre's horns and heaved back. The Ogre stumbled and let his head fall back. Alistair slashed at his throat while Aela wrenched back on the Ogre's horns like a stallion. The Ogre reached back to grab Aela, but she knew he would do that. She stabbed down as he reached up and tore open his armpit. _

_She slid off his shoulders and sliced open the beast's legs. He roared, enraged, opening his jaws way too wide. So Alistair jumped forward and shoved Duncan's sword into his mouth. The beast's eyes rolled back and Aela and Alistair screamed in unison as they pushed him back. Aela's magical voice shoved the Ogre back into a heap on the ground._

_Right after he hit the ground, Alistair looked at Aela, who pressed her fingertips to her own lips to stop her song. She looked back, winded and excited. Alistiar reached out and grabbed the back of Aela's neck, crushing her with a feverish kiss. He pulled back just before she could respond, and they were back to fighting as if they weren't married, as if they had nothing to lose, when in reality, they could lose so much in a single moment._


	7. Loud Silence

**This is so late, and I'm sorry. School is starting, and since I'm a Theatre student, I was auditioning for everything. But here is the next chappie. Thanks to snezeire for following and everyone else for their continual support! And Alex, this one's for you. **

* * *

**Chapter 7: Loud Silence**

Her spirit did not want to go into the Fade this time. As Sten carried her body from the Proving Grounds with her party yelling around her, she wanted nothing more than to sleep. She wavered in an out of consciousness and she kept forgetting she was underground and not under the clouds, the stars, what time was it? She didn't know.

When she closed her eyes, she slipped free from her body into the Fade, where she floated gently into an alternate version of Cousland Castle. Her feet touched the ground, and she was back to herself, a young noble girl in an expensive dress with white hair down to her knees. She walked through the field and almost forgot her body was fighting to survive somewhere else.

Her body opened her eyes and she saw the stony roof, an unfamiliar face, the feeling of a knife against her belly. She gasped silently and hands held her down. Someone began to drown her with a bitter and fiery liquid.

"Drink, Aela," Alistair's voice echoed from far away. She didn't want to. She hated the taste of alcohol.

"You gotta get that shit into her," a gruff and unfamiliar voice demanded. "I can't work if she's wiggling about like this. Other circumstances, maybe, but I don't wanna kill her."

Alistair lifted Aela's head as hands pinned her to a stone slab. "Close your eyes, love. Drink some more, you'll fall asleep."

Aela's eyes fluttered and closed at the sound of Alistair's soothing voice, and she was back in the Fade, running towards her castle. She had her skirts gathered in her arms as she sprinted into the courtyard. The stable-hands, the guards, and some knights greeted her as if nothing was amiss, or ever had been.

"Pup!" a voice called in the distance. Aela almost squealed when she saw her father, alive and happy, with Eleanor. They both smiled warmly at her and opened their arms. Aela ran into them and cried as they squeezed her and buried their faces in her shoulders.

"I'm so sorry I left you behind," Aela sobbed. "I didn't want to."

Eleanor pulled back and laughed. "Darling, you were only going to the lake. It's fine."

She didn't understand. "But… Arl Howe, he –"

"He isn't coming to the castle anymore, dearest. No one is marching. King Cailan and his army have already battled in Ostagar. We're safe," Bryce said happily. "Why are you so worked up about something you've done so many times? The lake is hardly dangerous."

"I thought…" Aela closed her mouth and huffed. "Is this real? You're really staying? We're safe?"

Eleanor kissed her forehead. "Of course, my love. Now, I'm going for supper. Fetch Oren and I will find Fergus and Oriana."

Aela nodded and gleefully ran into the corridors. A nightmare, she realized. A horrible nightmare. Duncan, Alistair, Morrigan, Lothering, Orzammar, everything had just been an untrue nightmare.

She bounded up the steps and opened the door to Oren's nursery.

"I'm coming to get you!" she giggled as she flew in.

That giggle quickly stopped when she found Oren's body lying on the floor next to Oriana, the same exact position she had left them in, massacred. She screamed.

Aela's eyes snapped open and no hands were on her to push her down. But she didn't move. She stared up at the stone ceiling while tears fell from her eyes into her hair. She looked around, sore and tired, and she was in a room at Tapsters Tavern, yet again.

There was a giggle by the door. Aela couldn't help but hear it. She turned her stiff neck to see a dwarven barmaid on the lap of a dwarven man, who had his face buried in her breasts and an ale in his free hand. Aela's eyes widened, but when she tried to speak, there was no sound. Instead, the rustle of her against the mattress made the barmaid jump and look over her shouder. She slapped the man away from her chest.

"She's awake!" she hissed. "Stop that!"

"Eh, she's fine. She's supposed to wake up," the man grumbled. But the barmaid slinked off the man's lap, readjusted her bodice, and stepped to Aela's bedside.

"Sorry about that," the woman said. "Balec here said he just wanted a pint and look what happened."

"Quiet, woman. Move over so I can take a look at her."

Balec up-close was an obvious Duster. The brand scorched into his face said that much. His beard was braided finely, though, and he had a maul leaning against the wall behind him. That didn't make too much sense. But when Balec wiped his beard with the back of his hand before grabbing Aela's blankets, she flinched away violently.

Something tugged painfully at her stomach and she gasped. Balec sneered and pinned Aela down.

"Don't do that," he growled.

"This is the man who saved you," the barmaid said.

"Good thing I'm good with my fingers, eh?" Bale asked cheekily.

The barmaid squeaked and went beet-red before slipping out of the room. Balec's grin dropped and he pulled Aela's blankets back, revealing her bound breasts and some nasty gashes sewn shut.

"I managed to save most'a you," Balec grunted. He motioned to a nasty gash that crossed Aela's belly. "I had to take some stuff out, move it around, clamp it, sew it, mash it, whatever. You'll feel lighter, that's for sure!"

Aela frowned and sat up painfully. She tried to speak, but her voice made no sound. Balec eased her down back onto the bed. "Stop trying to sit up. I always tell this to broads and they never listen." The dwarf pulled his hands away and stopped for a moment. "Also, nevermind the crudeness. Oghren says I have this way with words that sets surfacers off."

Aela looked up and down, trapped. Then she shrugged stiffly to let him know it was more or less harmless. Because she couldn't make out the words to say she was uncomfortable. She looked around and looked back at Balec. She put her hand to her throat.

Balec drank from his cup loudly and tossed the cup to the side. He blinked down at Aela.

"You really pissed off a lot of dwarves, sweetheart," he grunted. "Not often we have a surface beat the sod outta our finest. I barely salvaged what was left of Lucjan and Piotin's deaf as a rock."

Aela squinted and furrowed her eyebrows. Balec rolled his eyes. "Whatever you did out there blew his ears out better than a whore blows…" Balec stopped and restarted once he saw Aela's expression. "He can't hear shit no more is what I'm saying. Because of your pie-hole."

Aela clamped her mouth shut and looked at the ceiling. She tried to peak and remembered it wasn't working. Balec watched her and reached into his pocket. He pulled a piece of parchment and a stick of charcoal. He lifted her legs so her knees could be used as a table. He motioned for her to write. Aela took a moment before she shakily wrote.

_What happened out there_? she asked through writing. Balec squinted at the writing before leaning back.

"Beats me," he sighed. "You just opened your mouth and this sound came howling out of it. Half the audience walked out with migraines, the other half with bloody ears. Piotin went completely deaf and the fool tried to put a hit on you last week."

Aela wrote furiously_: Last week?!_

"Mhmm. Been out for a fortnight. I've been stuck here babysitting you. I took care of Piotin, don't worry."

She stared at him with wide eyes. She didn't need to write anything for Balec to roll his eyes again. "I didn't touch you, princess. Not beyond what I did to fix you. Your boyfriend made sure of that. Huge buzzkill, if you ask me."

Aela wrote: _He's not my boyfriend_.

Balec barked out a laugh and belched. "Uh huh. Ain't no one that protective over something they didn't fancy. Shit, I'd act the same if my pint glass was cracked, but that's just me. And don't look at me like that, he didn't touch you, either. He'd probably have no idea the difference between an ass and a tit even if he saw a comparison painting."

_Stop,_ Aela wrote. _Where are they?_

Balec raised his hands and slapped his knees. "Off on another one of Harrowmont's crazy, title-grabbing schemes, no doubt. Went off looking for Jarvia. With any luck, she'll kill them before she skin's 'em."

Aela surged up and immediately regretted it. Balec dropped his smirk and grabbed her as she grabbed her stomach. "Shit, lady!" He pulled back the blanket. Aela squirmed as a small trickle of blood seeped through her stitches. Balec swore again as he scooped up some bandages and pressed them to her gut. She huffed and kept her shoulders tense.

"Don't. Move like that," Balec sneered. Aela, startled and humbled, nodded frantically as Balec kept pressure. "I won't tell you anymore if you keep thrashing about like a cheap gal, got it?"

She was getting sick of the way he talked, but she stayed still for a very long time before Balec continued.

"They left three days ago looking for Jarvia – she's a tough woman, meaner than Oghren, harsher than Bhelen – and she's got this underground carta that your crew went to deal with. Haven't heard of them since, and it ain't no surprise."

Aela shakily wrote on the parchment. _I want to find them._

"Ah, Alistair said you'd might. Another reason why I'm here, besides making sure you don't rip out your fuckin' stitches, is to make sure you don't leave the tavern. He said you had a knack of putting yourself into sticky situations. Heh."

Aela shook her head and averted her gaze. Balec glared.

"Oh, so playing in the Provings alone was not your idea? Listen, sister, if there was an award for the worst decision of the century, that would have been the winner _and_ runner-up."

Balec pulled the bandages away and frowned when blood still pooled and streamed down Aela's branze and bruised belly into the waistband of her trousers. Baledc tossed the bandages onto his lap and grabbed a needle and thread from the bedside table. Aela watched with surprise as Balec expertly thrust the thread through the small hole and he burnt the tip of the needle with a candle atop the bed table.

He then gave her a canteen and pulled the cork out for her. "I'm going to have to sew you back up. Drink, sister."

She set aside the canteen and wrote on her parchment: _I don't like whiskey._

Balec looked at her with a very unamused face. "You wanna have this thing poking around inside your gut without being a little drunk?"

Aela shook her head after a moment of reconsideration. Balec shook his own head in disapproval and thrust the needle into the open flesh. Aela cringed and would have squeaked if she had a voice. The dwarf deftly pulled the thread through and continued onward while Aela clutched at the blankets for support.

"As you probably gathered with those pretty eyes of yours," Balec grumbled, "I ain't no mage. So these are gonna scar, and they're gonna be ugly."

Aela twisted her mouth but had no choice but to accept it.

"As for your voice, I dunno if that's gonna come back. See, when you opened wide and all, you threw your whole voice out like a one-night stand that couldn't take a hint. I'm betting if it comes back, it'll be after a time. And since you were out for a good fortnight, you're gonna have to eat a whole lotta nug fat to gain your weight back. Your friends were force-feeding you bread and milk when your body wasn't acting up."

When he said that, she realized how weak she felt. Even though she was lying down again while Balec quickly sewed her up, her shoulders trembled pathetically. Balec finished and pulled her upright again to wrap a whole separate roll of bandages around her waist. He tucked her back into her bed and sat back.

There was a small knock on the door. Aela snapped her eyes to the knob, thinking her party was on the other side of it, but when a housekeeper peeked inside, she frowned.

"Another pint, Balec?" the housekeeper whispered.

"Two, sweet-stuff. I'm the wrong kinda bored right now."

The housekeeper nodded and smiled and slipped away. Aela wrote on the parchment.

_They serve you?_

Balec sobered for a moment and leaned back. "They do," he replied casually as if the brand on his face meant nothing in his life. "Think this brand makes the tavern staff think less of me?"

_But I thought the brand meant you were exiled to Dust Town with no purpose._

"Lady, the first thing they found out when they burned my beautiful mug was that I wasn't going nowhere. I deliver babies, sew up husbands, cure wives. You think anyone else here can do that?"

_Surely there would be someone…_

Balec laughed again, loudly, and it made Aela jump. "HAH! Sure, some of us know how to wrap a bandage around a foot, but I had to somehow pull a miracle outta my ass and fix you. You think anyone here can open up a Grey Warden and pull some stuff out, sew them up, and have them wake up and sit up a few days later without magic or a fuckin' drink?"

Aela's eyes widened.

"And I had to do that _while _dealing with Lucjan. He was in the room over. Can you imagine me running back and forth between you two trying to remember who lost which innard? Since then, I've had to fix two dozen pairs of ears – thanks to you – and deliver twins, and make Piotin's buddy look good for his wake."

She stared at the ceiling while the housekeeper snuck in to give Balec his two pints. He kicked the door shut and sat again. He downed one pint before her and tossed the goblet to the floor to finish the other one. He was content and relaxed and Aela was trapped.

Only when there was a loud bang on the door did Balec jump to his feet. He grabbed his maul and pressed it to the door to keep it shut. "Who goes?!" he shouted.

"Open up, Balec!" an angry voice growled. Balec glared at Aela while he yelled back.

"I still gotta patient whose unconscious, you'll have to wait."

Aela took the hint and rolled over to face the wall. She closed her eyes.

"This person's dying!" the man on the other side yelled.

"So is this one," Balec replied. "Start convincing me."

"We're being followed, I need you to let us in. I'll pay you fifty sovereigns!"

Balec grumbled and pulled open the door. "Fine."

Aela tensed as a dwarven couple entered. Balec sucked in a breath but only Aela noticed. "On the bed there, don't even look at the other one. If he finds out I so much as let you into the same room, he'll gut me."

Aela was glad she had rolled over on her side to hide her breasts. She listened as the heavily-clad soldiers limped in. One threw up and made a horrible splattering noise upon the stone. Aela gritted her teeth.

"Thanks, that's lovely," Balec growled. He shut the door. "Do you have any idea how much shit I could get into if they find out that you're here?"

"Shut it, Balec, just get to work," the same voice said. The injured one made no sound.

There was the slightest moment of silence before Balec cleared his throat. "Lots of gashed, a broken jaw."

"So fix it."

"I've done crazy things in my time," Balec said. "Even freakier things. But this is too much."

"You're refusing to help?"

"I will if you explain to me what happened. I'm a sucker for gossip."

Aela had a bad feeling settle into her stomach. Whether that was the throbbing of her belly from recent stitching or a bad omen, she wasn't sure.

"Fine," the man spat. "We were in our hideout, when these people came out of nowhere. Four of them and their mutt. Tore half of us to shreds."

"Shit," Balec muttered. Meanwhile, Aela's eyes were wide open, staring at the wall, frozen. "The other half?"

"You're looking at them."

Balec cleared his throat. "And the people that jumped you?"

"Does it matter?!" the man sneered. "We got out of there the moment their hound tore Miyka's arm off. A Qunari almost smacked Jarvia's jaw right off her face, as you can see. So fix it!"

Jarvia. The woman Alistair and the others were sent to fight.

"Calm, my child," the woman suddenly said in her mind. The same woman who had told her to sing was in her mind, comforting her. "Calm."

"I would, but –"

"Oi," Jarvia slurred loosely. "Who's that?"

"I told you. A patient. Let me see your jaw."

There was a smacking sound. "Don't touch me," Jarvia growled. "My scout told me of a girl with hair white as snow that fought in the Proving."

"This isn't her," Balec growled.

"They said she was in cohorts with other surfacers, and a mabari. Said she gutted Myaja's lover. Said she fought for Harrowmont, who put a hit on me."

"Stop talking, your jaw is in a bad state."

There was the sound of a sword leaving its sheathe. "I'm gonna kill that bitch."

"Don't move, child," the woman cooed.

"She's done nothing to you!" Balec roared. She shoved Jarvia back onto the bed. "And you _will not _touch her."

"The poor little songbird won't feel a thing," the man said. "Let us have our revenge!"

"No. One more step and I'll shove my maul so far up your ass beyond flirtation, it'll make your head pop off."

"It's not like she's running away," the man growled.

"Oh," Balec groaned. "You really are a sack of shit, ain't yah?"

Aela didn't need another hint. She threw the blankets back and leapt out of the bed, one hand clutching her stomach, the other pulling her forward along the wall. Jarvia and the man both cried out as Aela tore open the door while Balec shoved both back with his maul. Aela stumbled out of the door, forgetting where she was, before running down the hall towards the noise of the tavern. Her legs were too skinny, her arms too boney, and she barely had the strength to shove through the crowd.

"To the left," the woman said in her head. "The side exit."

Aela wriggled through the drunken dwarves, some of whom recognized her.

"It's the singer!"

"Oi, that's the girl who almost killed Lucjan."

"It's the Mockingbird!"

Aela had a hard time as hands grabbed at her, but when they saw a bloodied and very furious Jarvia burst from the hallway, the tavern went insane. Aela managed to duck under swinging weaponry and crawl towards the door unseen among boots and smelly feet, one hand clutching her stomach. She reached up and grabbed the door handle and hauled herself to her shaky feet. She shoved open the door and escaped to the muggy heat of the Commons.

The side exit had led her to an alleyway, littered with garbage and a drunkard sleeping against a wall. Aela wasn't sure where to go or what to do, so she ran down the alley to the main pass. In nothing but trousers and a long bandage covering her entire torso, the sight was abysmal to everyone who saw her stumbling through the crowd.

"That way!" Jarvia's soldier yelled. "GET HER!"

Jarvia stumbled forward, face smeared with gore and a violent expression that would make anyone's blood curdle. No one made a move to help Aela, who was much slower. The man grabbed a lockbox from a kiosk vender and hurled it with all his strength. It crashed into Aela's back, knocking the air out of her lungs. If she screamed, no sound was heard. She hit the ground and rolled over as Jarvia approached, battleaxe in battered hands, while her soldier ran back to block Balec.

Aela threw her hands up as Jarvia released her war cry before there was a snarl, a bark, and more screaming. Duckling leapt over Aela's fallen form, teeth bared and claws sharp. Jarvia was startled enough to freeze while the mabari's full weight in muscle landed on her, and strong jaws closed around her throat. Aela stared at the ferocity in her hound before hands grabbed her. She wriggled before Morrigan's face stopped her.

"Get up, Mockingbird," Morrigan hissed. "Let your dog deal with her."

_Mockingbird?_

Morrigan pulled an arm over her head while Duckling snapped his head around violently. Jarvia was already lost to stone, but that didn't stop Duckling. The two women stumbled into another alley and behind the shops, away from the noise. Morrigan set Aela down roughly and she was immediately attacking the bandages around her waist.

"I smell the blood under these, you're hurt."

Aela grabbed at her hands and pushed them away. Morrigan looked up with wild yellow eyes as Aela tried to speak. But her voice was still lost. Aela grabbed her throat. Morrigan frowned.

"Oh, lovely. 'Twould have been better if this happened to Alistair instead."

Aela flapped her hands about, trying to ask where he was. Morrigan somewhat understood. "Wait here. I will scout the alley entrance and find the others. Don't move."

The witch left, staff in hand and skin glowing as she began to change forms. Aela huddled against the wall, her stomach cramping painfully.

"Mockingbird…" the woman whispered in her mind. "The gift I granted you has warranted you a nickname, darling."

_It also destroyed my voice, woman,_ Aela groaned internally. The woman giggled.

"When someone uses such great power, you must be careful. Your frail, mortal body could not withstand the godly strength of your song, and now you are silent. But you will get your song back."

_I'm not sure I want that,_ Aela replied.

"Your mother was the same, Maelana," the woman said softly. "She, too, had a powerful and beautiful voice, and when she used it, she used it well. It did get her into trouble, but it was still her tool."

_Eleanor simply had a great knowledge of proper vocabulary,_ Aela spat sourly. _And look where that put her._

The woman left her mind then, and Aela felt a small pang of guilt before she heard Duckling squeal amongst the clatter and bang of the fight in the Commons. She leapt to her feet and left the safety of the dark alley to see Morrigan hauling her shaky and battered frame up with her staff while Jarvia's right-hand pulled the dagger from Duckling's shoulder. Duckling squirmed and yelped as the man raised for another blow.

For the first time in her life, she saw red. It was not like the night of the Highever Massacre, but a crimson tunnel vision that made her thirst for blood. She elbowed through the crowd and grabbed the man's hand before it sank into Ducking again. She shoved him back, making no sound, and threw his surprised body back. He stumbled over the edge of the Common's road, tumbling over towards the lava below. Aela almost lost her own footing before a strong hand grabbed her bandages to hold her back.

One of her feet slipped and two arms wrapped around her like a vice. When they pulled her back, her first reaction was to throw her fists towards them as if they were about to attack her again. The strong arms whirled her around and suddenly, her face was buried in the neck of someone familiar.

"Andraste be praised, Aela," Alistair breathed in her ear. He cupped the back of her head until she calmed. "He's okay, Duckling's okay, you're okay."

She pulled back to speak, but no sound was made. Frustrated and high on adrenaline, it became too hard to breathe. She pulled away from Alistair, who looked worse for wear with a split lip and a swollen eye, and she knelt next to her hound, who shook with pain. She wrapped her arms around him and held onto him.

Duckling was all she had from home. Her only true friend and companion through her childhood, and he bled through her fingers. She wanted to laugh and cry and throw up all at once, but all she could do was wallow in the silence of her own presence.

Balec waddled up, bloody maul in hand. "Come on, Aela, let's get you fixed up again. Who knows who else has a bone to pick with you. Heh."

Alistair shot Balec a look. "That sounded a little suggestive."

"Princess, has being around me taught you _nothing_?"

"Is there anything you _won't_ say?" Leliana asked rhetorically.

"I don't usually say no, if you catch my drift."

Back at the tavern behind reinforced doors, Balec stitched Duckling's wounds closed. The priority should have been Aela, the party knew that, but she refused to let anyone touch her before Duckling. Alistair was in the corner with a cloth filled with ice against his face. Morrigan let Sten pop her ribs back into place while Leliana pressed a poultice into a nasty gash on Sten's back, and Leliana's hand was broken. They were all alive, and exhausted.

But they didn't get to rest for long. By the time Aela's gut had scabbed over four days later, and feverish from a possible infection, another knock sounded. And everyone grabbed their weapons. But it was Harrowmont.

The dwarven noble entered the crowded room wearing a cloak, the hood pulled over his head. He revealed himself and smiled.

"Jarvia has been disposed of. Thank you, Mockingbird."

Alistair groaned. "Just sign the damn papers already, then."

Harrowmont's smile faltered. Leliana frowned. "That look was not a reassuring one, good sir."

"Look, I can truthfully say I'm thankful for you dealing with Jarvia in my favour. The Assembly certainly noticed… but they are still locked with the fact that Bhelen is the rightful heir through blood. They have requested the favour of one more party."

Aela audibly sighed while Alistair looked like he was about to slap Harrowmont across the beard.

"Sounds like you want them to chase after a Paragon, you sod."

Harrowmont looked at Balec, calm. "Yes, I suppose it does."

There was a moment before Balec crossed the room, livid. "_A PARAGON? _Are you seriously that big of a fool, Harrowmont?! Who? Who the fuck do you think we can find to do that?!"

A gruff voice sounded behind Harrowmont, and a dwarf with a wild red beard and the stink of booze around him smirked. Balec groaned.

"Oghren, you're a sodding fool."

"Come on, it'll be fun. Even more fun than those twins from a while back, remember them?"

Alistair interjected, annoyed and confused. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Well, I don't remember their names, pretty boy, but they sure were wild."

Harrowmont shook his head. "I'm funding a full expedition to find the Paragon Branka. We have information proving that she is most likely alive. Find her and get her favour, and you'll get your army."

Balec fumed and turned to Aela, who hid the fact that her gut still hurt and her fever was spiking very well. "Your move sister."

Aela twisted her mouth and she had no other choice but to nod. Balec grunted at Harrowmont, who bowed and left. "Great. The Deep Roads. The only thing that's deep that I fucking hate."

* * *

_"Aela, get down!" Alistair cried. He crashed into her after she cut down a darkspawn. She hit the ground, losing the air in her lungs. Alistair shielded her as the ground shook violently beneath them. Her heart seized and she looked up from the ground._

_The ground outside Denerim, in the valley to the east, broke apart like an eggshell. Smoke belched from the earthly gash, and claws gnarled and sharpened emerged. A colossal wing made of rotting flesh and slime burst from the whole in the ground, and the claw gouged the stone to haul the rest of the archdemon out of the underworld, the Deep Roads. It snarled, and even though it was miles away, Aela thought she could smell death about him. _

_In her heart, she felt the archdemon smile. The rest of his body left the underground and he stood on his hind legs, wings outstretched after so long in the dark. Fire exploded forth and set the clouds on fire, his shriek a mixture of all things suffering._

_Aela closed her eyes and Alistair held her. _

_"Calm, my love," he whispered harshly. "Don't let him in."_

_"Aye, I won't let him touch you, my child," the woman said. "He can scream all he want, but his song has no power over you."_

_Another wave smashed through the army the Grey Wardens tried so hard to recruit. So Aela and Alistair were back on their feet, and they tried their hardest to ignore the fact that the archdemon was in The Barron, stretching his wings and his jaws, ready to feast and fly and destroy the world. All Aela could think about was Riordan, and where he was, and how he was going to take down that monster. _


End file.
